A Game Of Three
by dariachenowith
Summary: They say that college is the time for experiments. Some for science, some for life. AH/OOC, Carlisle / Edward / Bella. Rated M for adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**My sincere gratitude goes to a bunch of wonderful gals who helped me whip this fic into shape - V, MarchHare5, luvrofink, prassacut & chrissy1201. You rock!**

**Disclaimer:**  
><strong>I don't own Twilight, but I do intend to do with my characters whatever I want to. While this bunch won't be as OOC as some of my other characters, you should take those 3 little letters seriously.<strong>

**If you have any problems reading a story containing slash and threesomes, and people who are not in a relationship having sex with others, then please, don't read this story. Same goes for use of moderately strong language and mild substance abuse. If age gap stories are not your thing, and you don't trust me not to make you cringe, then please turn away now.**

**Why no categories and character tags? I didn't find any category fitting - the sex is mostly lust and curiosity driven, but not by love; there won't be gut-wrenching angst or drama; Just see for yourself! With three main characters I felt like choosing any two of them would be highly limiting.**

**The story will be in Bella's POV exclusively, and right now I'm not planning on any outtakes etc. in other POVs.**

**Please enjoy.**

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><p>"What is it that makes people do things? Extreme things, ordinary things – what exactly motivates them? Is it random? Do they react to patterns they have learned from those close to them and their environment? Is it something inherently imprinted that is part of all of us?"<p>

Good questions. The only one relevant to me was, 'Why the hell am I sitting here, for no extra credit, on Wednesday night, listening to Professor Watch My Blond Mane Shine drone on about motivation and the human psyche?'. I knew I should have opted for Criminal Psychology for an elective instead of going with Psychology of Group Dynamics. That at least would have been gripping and gory, but no, I had to go for the sensible choice that sounded more useful for my main curriculum. Now I was stuck with the swooning masses, almost entirely made up of girls, who avidly gobbled up the crap the esteemed Carlisle Cullen was spoon-feeding them.

Normally, I wasn't so critical of my professors, even less so in the first week, but I was still pissed that I didn't get into Prof. Addler's course. I'd wanted to take it since I'd started, and something always went wrong; it was like a curse. This semester I had even bulked up on other classes because I had hoped that with my set schedule they'd favor me, extra effort and all that – but no. Of course, Cullen's seminar was just as overbooked; maybe I'd find someone to switch with me.

Listening to him go on about peer pressure and how the human mind was working differently in the context of competitiveness, I pulled out my phone and logged into the general psychology forum, trying to be as stealthy as I could about typing my quick request for someone to get me out of this hole. I was so immersed in it that I didn't even notice when the room fell completely silent around me.

"Take, for instance, your own reactions to the blatant disregard your fellow student is showing at the moment. What fascinating endeavor can possibly be more engaging than the pursuit of knowledge? Ten bucks that it's connected to a social media site, thus bringing us back to the aspect that we're all thriving to be part of a living, breathing community, even in the times of cyberspace."

I didn't need to look up to know that everyone was staring at me. They had to, seeing as Cullen was still standing right in front of my seat, even though I was four rows into the room. I've never been one to avoid confrontation, though, so I raised my head once I hit 'send', catching the gaze of his blue eyes steadily.

"Then you owe me ten bucks. It was the university forum, not Facebook or Twitter."

He blinked, and I was sure that he found my response irritating, although he didn't show it outright.

"And you wouldn't describe a forum of whatever fashion as social?"

"Social, yes, but the term 'social media site' implies something completely different. I didn't check up on the latest gossip, nor did I play a round of 'Words with Friends' or something similar."

"What did you do then that couldn't wait until the class was over?"

The way he kept regarding me was making me vaguely uncomfortable, and not just because he had caught me. There was something inherently impolite in his refusal to look away.

"I was actually trying to find someone to switch classes with me."

Probably not the smartest thing to tell him that to his face, but I didn't believe in lying just to avoid a little conflict. Plus, maybe he'd be less obnoxious if he realized that not every woman was fawning over him.

"And that couldn't wait until later?"

"Well, it could have, but considering it's your class I want out of I figured I might as well not waste my precious free time later."

His mouth twisted into a thin line, but it was amusement that lit up his eyes, not anger.

"What's your major, if I may ask so boldly? You don't strike me as the typical psychology student."

"Political Science. I only took your course as an elective."

"And now you rue that decision, ten minutes into the start of the class already? I don't think quitters get ahead much on the minefields of diplomacy of this world."

That made me gnash my teeth, but there wasn't much I could say to that without sounding whiny or childish.

"It's better to quit early, though, than drag something with you just because you think you have to stick with it, when already you can tell that it won't be of any use to you."

"What makes you think my course won't be of any use to you? Being able to better judge people's reactions in different social environments is a skill anyone who has to deal with groups on a regular basis will need."

Now it was my turn to be amused.

"Is that really what you're teaching here? Because to me it was looking as if you were just basking in your own glory in front of your adoring fans."

That caused a murmur to run through the class, and I couldn't help but feel a little stupid for saying that out loud. Cullen kept looking at me, and I bet he got off on watching me squirm.

"Either that, or you just helped me prove my first point!" He turned from me then to address the assembled class. "Your colleague here has every right to call me out, seeing as I've done nothing but hold a ten minute monologue, when the really interesting thing would have been to ask for and include all of your opinions. Yet you're all so used to having knowledge told to you, presented in well suited little bits and pieces, that you didn't even question my methods. But you should. The world has too many people acting like sheep already; you should make a point not to belong to them."

I had to admit, I was a little impressed by his ability to just take my criticism and turn the other cheek like that, but not impressed enough to actually want to stay. I was just about to gather my things when his voice held me back.

"Of course, you're free to leave any time, Miss, but maybe you want to give me a real chance first? I might still surprise you."

His blue eyes were once again fixed on me when I looked at him, and after a moment's hesitation I gave a curt nod and relaxed into my seat again.

"Maybe I should."

Cullen resumed talking to the class then, albeit asking for more opinions now, and people started warming up to him reluctantly, yet steadily. I couldn't help but feel like I was somehow trying to sabotage him with my contributions, but he didn't seem to mind in the least. Or so I thought, until the class was over and I tried to leave, but found my exit blocked by him.

"May I ask your name? Even if you decide to drop my class I'd like to know who my adversaries are."

He said it with a smile, and I accepted the sting of his words with as much patience as I could. If I were him, I would probably have kicked out my sorry ass by then.

"Isabella Swan," I replied, then held out my hand to him belatedly. He didn't hesitate to take it, his handshake firm.

"And have you decided whether you will continue to grace my class with your presence?"

I shrugged, feeling myself blush slightly when I realized that I had underestimated him, and my mind wasn't made up yet.

"Maybe."

He raised his light brows at that.

"I thought a woman with such a sharp tongue would have a more eloquent answer for me than a lame 'maybe'. You disappoint me, Ms. Swan."

"Why should I care about that? Because I'm a woman, and women don't take criticism well after they've handed it out with a ladle themselves?"

"So defensive. Are you sure that you're not trying to deflect something with that reply? We should discuss that in more detail over coffee."

My ire rose at his words, and I had to swallow hard not to storm out right away.

"I don't think that would be appropriate, whether I keep attending your class or not."

He grinned, as if what I had said was funny. Maybe to him it even was.

"I think you misunderstood my offer. While you were so busy trying to get out of my class, I mentioned that I'm holding a discussion group each week after the seminar, for those interested in a more hands-on play-by-play, and some further in depth information. At the coffee shop down from the lecture hall."

"Oh," was pretty much all I could say to that.

"Why, what did you think I was implying?" he asked, his cocky grin destroying any respect I'd started to have for him.

"Nothing," I huffed in return, but then decided that if I backed down like that now, I could just as well quit completely. "So, is this discussion group tonight already, or starting next week?"

"We're starting in twenty minutes from now, if you're interested. I, for once, would love to hear your candid opinion when we're on a more equal basis, and you don't feel the need to prove that you're the best student any professor could ever have."

"That wasn't my intention," I tried to defend myself, but he just shrugged and turned away, effectively dismissing me. Somehow, that was even worse than being called an eager beaver. It also left me with the distinct need to show him that I wasn't just ambitious, but really had a point with my objections. I already hated how easy it was for him to get me to jump exactly how high he wanted me to, but I had to admit, I was impressed about that nonetheless.

"Wow, I feel like this class is going to give me whiplash from all the ping pong argument to and fro," murmured an unfamiliar voice behind me.

I turned, slowly, finding myself face to face with a tall guy with reddish-brown hair that stood on end, even more so when he scratched his head. He looked vaguely familiar, and when my gaze skimmed over him some more, I finally realized why.

"Hey, you're the guy who moved into the room across the hall from mine, right? With the "I lost my faith in Nihilism" slogan on your messenger bag?"

He wasn't wearing it now, just carried his spiral notepad in his hand, but I could see by his smile that I was right.

"And you're the girl with the weird roommate. 'Hi, I'm Tanya, if I hang my bra on the door knob that means I'm having sex with someone, but feel free to join anytime?', right?"

I snorted, shaking my head at Tanya's antics, but then nodded when the look on his face turned quizzical.

"Yup, that's her. A real keeper."

A moment of awkwardness followed, as was often the case when I had to admit that I was living with a slut hell bent on corrupting my morals. As usual, I did my best to smile and make fun of my living arrangements.

"I'm Bella, by the way."

"Edward," he offered, and after a couple of seconds a slight lopsided smile appeared on his face. "I sadly don't have anything interesting to say about my roommate, because he seems like a total and utter bore. Not that I mind. It's great when I don't get woken up at three in the morning by the drunken moaning of him and some girl he's banging, but that's really the only thing I can say about him after three days."

"Sounds like fun. If you ever feel the need to, you can always share Tanya's hilariousness with me. In a strictly non-sexual, make fun of your roomie kind of way, I mean."

And now I was blushing, and he seemed to find that cute, judging from the way he was grinning at my reddening cheeks, which only made my ire rise in return. I really didn't know what it was about me, the things I said, and men finding them funny for no apparent reason.

"I might get back to you on that if things stay the way they are now."

"You do that."

Silence fell again, and this time it was Edward clearing his throat that broke it.

"So, are you going to that discussion group? You really should, you were the one redeeming thing about his class."

"You think? Why are you even here? You don't quite fit the demographics."

"Why, because I'm a guy?"

"Well, yeah, and because you don't want to come after me with torches and pitchforks."

He shrugged.

"I'm sure that can be rectified somehow. Maybe if we call a flash mob on Facebook? It would fit into the theme of the class, too. Mind sacrificing yourself for some extra credit?"

"Not quite yet, but I might get back to you if the class turns out as boring as I thought in the first place."

Cullen took that moment to sweep by us, gifting me with a toothpaste commercial worthy smile, and a strangely lingering look at Edward next to me.

"You guys coming, or does your courage to discuss things reach only as far as you can slander me to my face?"

There wasn't really anything I could say about that, so I shut my mouth and trudged after him like the good little pupil I was.

Two hours, three tall lattes, and a lot of arguing later, I had to admit that my first impression of Carlisle Cullen had been wrong. He'd definitely played us in his first lesson, and if I hadn't been the one to speak up as I did, he would have found someone else to 'foil' his plan, but as it was, I was glad it was me. Outside of having to stick to his curriculum, he was happy to let discussions run wild, and having Edward along, whose major turned out to be philosophy, added quite a different spin to some of our arguments. Besides us, only three others from class had come, and they were mostly mute as they watched us hurl arguments and insults at each other. It was fun and the most prolific discussion I had had since I went to college. I was sure that if the coffee shop hadn't closed at midnight, we would have stayed there until much later, and as it was, I was already uncustomarily late as I walked up the stairs to my dorm room, Edward following behind me.

"So, are you going to stick with this?" he asked once we stopped in the hall between our corresponding rooms.

"I guess so. It was more fun than I expected."

He seemed to agree with me, and we parted ways there.

Unsurprisingly, Tanya was nowhere to be found, but at least that meant I could get some studying in before sleep carried me away.

That was the first time I dreamed of Carlisle Cullen and Edward Masen. We were sitting around a small table, a pizza box between us, and were arguing about whether you could apply the 'glass half full' theorem to food as well. Somehow, that dream made me twice as happy as usual that I hadn't picked psychology as a major.

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><p><strong>I hope you've enjoyed the start of my new multi-chapter fic!<strong>

**I intend to update on Tuesdays, maybe switch to Tue / Fri updates again if I find enough time to write. I'm on a very tight schedule right now between university, work, and trying to keep a semblance of a social life. I love your reviews, and I appreciate your comments so much, but I'm afraid I won't be able to reply to them regularly. If there are questions, I will try to answer them, maybe even on my blog.**

**See you soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A tip of the hat to a bunch of wonderful gals who helped me whip this fic into shape - V, MarchHare5, luvrofink, prassacut & chrissy1201. **

**I'm amazed how many people were happy to embark on this new journey with me, thank you all so so much for your wonderful reviews!**

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><p>"No, no, no, no, no, you can't wear that! It's a frat party. We're going for slutty, not skanky!"<p>

"And there's a difference?"

I rolled my eyes in the direction of my very limited wardrobe, in the hopes that Tanya couldn't see it.

"You don't need to grimace like that; you know very well that I can see it. And yes, there is a difference! You still have so much more to learn from me, young Padawan!"

That's Tanya for you in a nutshell: geeky references and skintight porn star outfits. No wonder half of our dorm was chasing that tail, and it was not even week two of the fall semester yet.

"Pray, enlighten me, what's so skanky about this blouse, and how can I get my slutty groove on?"

I held the offending blue garment in her direction. My mom had sent it to me as part of her new term care package. Not that I wanted to wear the polyester atrocity, but it was more down the line of what I figured Tanya wanted me to wear than my usual wardrobe.

"Where do I even begin?" she huffed, striking a dramatic pose with her hands at her hips. "The cut, the fabric, the _ruffles_ – no offense, B, but with your utter lack of what most people think of a feminine figure you don't have to emphasize that there isn't anything to emphasize. Where did you even find this thing? You're normally not that fashion blind."

"Renée." I emphasized my flat-toned reply with a shrug. Tanya snorted.

"I should have figured. Skank wants to turn you into her mini-me again."

Tanya didn't like my mother. Actually, I think she loathed her deeply. The fact that Renée had told Tanya that she was fat the last time she had visited didn't help things.

"I don't know, maybe she just thought it was my color or something."

"Bella, seriously? Why are you defending that woman? The woman who pretty much pushed you into the worst forty seconds of deflowering a girl can suffer through just because she was convinced that anyone who is still a virgin at sixteen is a loser? Hello?"

I sighed, then threw the top in the general direction of the trash.

"I was so drunk, I'm not even sure it lasted more than thirty."

"My point exactly! I'm all for slacking on the 1970s parental supervision guide, but, come on, what kind of mother tells her baby girl to get drunk and let that sleaze bag of a boyfriend molest her on some sofa at a friend's house just so she doesn't have to live with the stigma of a sixteen-year-old virgin for three weeks over the summer? Most girls would have been traumatized for life after that!"

"Try disgusted," I huffed, then reached back into my wardrobe to grab a sleek, black halter top Tanya always approved of. It was her house warming welcome gift for when she moved in with me here, after my first roommate quit college, after all. She grinned appreciatively when I showed it to her, then gave a curt nod as I indicated the white Marlene cut trousers to go with it. Only when I reached for my underwear drawer, she smacked her lips.

"It's good that you're fighting your skank genes, but trust me when I tell you that you don't need a bra to pull that one off."

I hated going without a bra, but the top was cut low in back and the straps would have been visible, so I bowed to her advice and pulled on the clothes without one. It wasn't like I strictly needed one, anyway, unlike Tanya, who could give every pin-up girl a run for her money, and never failed to accentuate what was already there in abundance. She usually told me to go for a more natural look. The first few months I had thought she was just trying to dress me down so she could shine all the brighter next to me, but after I looked through a couple of pics online from the parties she kept dragging me along to, I had to admit that she had a good eye for what worked on someone, and what didn't. Between her cleavage and long legs there was substance aplenty that could be squashed and lifted into the perfect shape, while with me, there simply wasn't.

While I finished up my makeup, Tanya kept checking her phone, already impatient with me.

"Who's coming to that party anyway? I don't mind watching drunk hunks tear off their shirts, but that's only entertaining for so long."

"Oh, the usual." She then proceeded to rattle off a list of names that I could only vaguely assign faces to.

"Huh."

"Well, Miss Prissy Pants, if my hand-selected few aren't up to your standards, why don't you bring someone who meets your criteria better? Oh, sorry, I forgot, you don't have any friends who haven't already tapped this ass." As if the body part in question needed any emphasis, she slapped her butt emphatically, making me groan.

"Sheesh, that was one time! And I wasn't even sure you two had been an item. I was horny, he was there, sex happened. So what?"

"Nothing, just stating the obvious," she preened, then reached under her bed for the bottle of vodka she usually kept there. "Care for some starters?"

"No, thanks, I don't want to destroy my need for cheap beer with even cheaper booze."

"Spoil sport!"

It didn't escape my notice that the sip she took was rather dainty, and that she swished it in her mouth much like one would with mouthwash. At my broad grin she swallowed it, then made a face.

"Sheesh, I should listen to you more often; that stuff is absolutely vile. Wouldn't be surprised if I went blind from it."

"You should know that better than me, Miss Biochemist. Which reminds me, what happened to that moonshine stuff you crazies cooked up in the lab last week?"

"It went the way of all good booze," she laughed, an almost nostalgic look on her face. Then a light frown appeared there instead, and she looked at me almost critically. "Why don't you ask that guy from across the hall to come with us? I saw you talk to him three times this week already; for you that's close to popping the question any moment now!"

"You mean Edward?"

"Yeah, whatever his name is – the tall, handsome one? Not that squat creep he's rooming with. I swear that weirdo snatched up my bra."

The indignation in her voice made me chortle.

"T, we live in a college dorm. You keep hanging your bras, and mine as well, on the door for when you're screwing someone. You can't expect random stupid guys not to snatch them up whenever they walk by!"

"Random cute stupid guys I don't mind! He's still a creep."

"Whatever," I huffed. I had to admit, the general idea wasn't so bad, although I had no idea if I wanted to expose someone like Edward to the likes of the people Tanya considered worth hanging out with. He seemed like a nice guy, which was exactly the problem.

Just then her phone rang, and I chose to grasp that opportunity to slip out. Her calls were usually short, so I had only a couple of minutes to kill, and the door at the other side of the hallway was looking more inviting than ever.

At my first knock nothing happened, so I knocked again, calling Edward's name as well. A loud bump sounded from inside, then the door swung inwards, revealing his roommate instead. Behind him, the room was cast in shadows, and from what I could see, empty except for Eric.

"He's not in. What do you want?"

I blinked at the almost rudeness of the guy in front of me, but then shrugged it off as the usual antisocial geek behavior. Judging from the glow lighting up the room, he had been on his computer, probably watching porn or something worse, like toothpaste commercials.

"Do you know where he is?" Eric shook his head, then closed the door in my face, leaving me blinking irritatedly. "Well, thanks for nothing!"

Just then Tanya came out of our room, smirking at me where I was still fuming at the door.

"As I said, creep!"

"Whatever," I repeated, then turned around to beam my best fake smile at her. "We don't need any guys to have fun, right?"

"Oh, B, this comes so sudden, I didn't know you harbored those kinds of feelings for me! Come on, let's have passionate lesbian sex on our dorm room floor!" she shouted, loud enough that the entire floor must have heard it, then slunk her arm around my waist. I snorted, then let her pull me away from the door.

"Yeah, in your dreams maybe."

And off we were to Friday-night-frat-party land.

The party turned out to be like most to which Tanya had dragged me in the past two years, since we had met in our second semester – 'met' being relative, because she had already taken over her half of my freshly vacated dorm room when I had returned from a lecture the day she moved in. It was loud, there were too many people drinking too much beer, and the pristine white of my pants was in dire danger of being soiled from minute two of our arrival. It took Tanya all of thirty seconds to find her gaggle of friends, hug those she wanted to greet in earnest, ignore those she didn't, and start sucking face with the first random guy who bumped into her, accidental or not. Sometimes I envied her way with people, but I had to admit that I took a sardonic kind of joy in watching her work the crowds, while not being part of it myself.

Tanya's philosophy was to party hard and crash harder, so that during the week she could work on her perfect GPA and sparkling academic record. Considering how many brain cells to alcohol and worse I had already witnessed her losing, she must have started out with an IQ bordering on genius, and even hungover she could still wipe the floor with me at any Trivial Pursuit game. I sometimes envied her for both, but in the end I could have tried to do the same, but it just wasn't my thing. Hang out with friends and get drunk, yes, maybe laid once in a while, sure, but that was the extent of 'wild' I was going for with my college years. I had come a long way from the pushover girl who had lost her virginity to some guy whose name she couldn't remember. I had shirked the shyness and revulsion that event had made me hide behind as well, but that didn't mean I had to live life to the max, as Tanya did.

That being said, by midnight I was ready to go home. The music had become obnoxious minutes ago, the guys hitting on me hours ago already, and I still had some reading to do on my first paper to hand in this term. That seemed like a better thing to waste my time on than to stay here. I was just about to push my way through the masses still streaming inside, when I collided with a wall. Or rather, wall of muscles, skin, bone, and clothes, as it turned out, and after a critical look upwards, I realized that I had run straight into Edward.

He looked a bit lost, standing on his own by the door, a previously filled, now emptied on his shirt, cup in his hand. He didn't seem to be able to decide whether he was annoyed at me making him spill his drink, or happy to see me, but the scales quickly tipped towards the latter when I grinned up at him.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"You, and half of the guests of this esteemed event."

I laughed at his joke, then held out my still full cup to him.

"Here, if you want my beer instead, go ahead. You can either drink it, or take revenge on me by sloshing it all over me in turn."

It actually took him blushing slightly while his eyes zeroed in on my cleavage to realize that, once again, the fabled Bella Swan foot-in-mouth moment had occurred.

"I … I didn't mean it like that," I stammered, fighting the impulse to cross my arms over my chest. At least it was hot in here so that nothing could strain against the fabric of my top. The last thing I needed right now was a cool draft to make my nipples pucker up to go with that slip up. And, of course, thinking of my nipples, in conjunction with how Edward was absentmindedly licking his lips now, quickly started to change things for the worse.

Maybe I shouldn't have had those three shots of tequila after all.

"Um, I think I should go now," I hedged, pushing by him before anything worse could come out of my mouth, or, God forbid, out of his. Between Tanya, and the fact that whenever I said something to him I sounded like the campus slut, fleeing was definitely the better part of valor.

Just before I stumbled out of the house I looked back over my shoulder one last time, and, true enough, found Edward looking after me. For a moment I was even tempted to go back, or simply wave him over – he was handsome enough, and it really had been a while since my bed had seen any action – but I quickly discarded that idea. For one thing, he was about the only one who might have my back in that blasted psychology class, and reducing myself to the next skank ready to jump him didn't fly well with that. For another, what little I had talked to him had made me appreciate his bright mind, not just his partly defined biceps that kept peeking out from the sleeve of his t-shirt, and I didn't want to jeopardize making a friend by humping him before anything real could develop.

So I did the only thing I could do and continued to run, and did my very best to spend the entire weekend either hiding in my room, or making sure to only leave it when chances were good not to run into him. My life in a nutshell: viciously studying just to avoid further embarrassment.


	3. Chapter 3

**A tip of the hat to a bunch of wonderful gals who helped me whip this fic into shape - V, MarchHare5, luvrofink, prassacut & chrissy1201.**

**Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews!**

**Because the question / speculation has surfaced (why, I really don't understand) - NONE of the major characters in the fic are in any way related. Incest is neither interesting nor in any way appealing to me.**

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><p>"Don't forget to sign in with the topic of your presentation before next week! If you don't find anything that suits you in the list of suggestions, or find them sorely lacking and beneath your interest, you're free to discuss your own ideas with me anytime."<p>

Of course, Cullen had to say the last part with his blue eyes looking straight at me. I figured I deserved it after giving him hell over the major theme points his class would focus on this semester.

"Guess you had that one coming," Edward chuckled next to me, his grin almost angelic when I looked from our professor to him.

"You think?"

"Yes, I do."

"Finally we agree on something. If I were him, I would have kicked my sorry ass out of his class already." That definitely bore repeating.

I got a snort for that.

"Where would be the fun in that? I think he's just waiting for you to dig your own hole. You were awfully close already today when you argued that things like the Stiletto Run high heel race can't be used to evaluate women's behavior on the grounds of not all women wearing high heels on a daily basis."

"Well, you can't!"

"We were discussing fringe group behavior."

I knew I had definitely lost that point, but still didn't feel like giving up just yet.

"And?"

"And what else but a fringe group are women who partake in a race wearing high heels instead of jogging shoes? Even considering the high heel aficionadas themselves, I think only a scant minority will consider running in those shoes."

"That's an incredibly sexist thing to say."

He laughed, somewhat offended.

"What? How is saying that most women aren't stupid enough to endanger their ankles sexist?"

"You said 'aficionadas,' feminine plural. Not everyone wearing high heels is a woman."

Edward gave me a long look, then sighed. "You're such a sore loser, it's unbelievable."

"Am not!" I protested, following as he got up and made his way to the front of the classroom. "I was just pointing out that you weren't using the proper terms, or were disregarding the entire transgendered and drag queen community!"

"Which has nothing whatsoever to do with the point of discussion, as you very well know." He paused at the door so I could catch up with him, beaming a bright smile at me. "And, just for your information, if someone wants to be seen as a woman, whether that's pre- or post-op, I see her as a woman, and will still call her an aficionada. Anything else would be rude."

"What do you even know about pre- and post-op transgendered women?"

"Probably a lot more than you. I didn't just watch six seasons of _Nip/Tuck,_ I also wrote a term paper on sexual versus biological identity. You're losing, Bella; admit it."

Grumbling under my breath, I kept sneering up at him, then stopped when Cullen, this time surrounded by a veritable horde of five eyelash-batting girls, swept by us.

"When you're done making asses of yourselves in front of everyone, will you join us at the coffee shop again?" he called out to us, but didn't wait for our reply. Why that even left me flabbergasted for a moment, I couldn't say.

"I wasn't making an ass of myself!" I protested, cringing a little at how whiny I sounded.

"Yes, you definitely were," Edward remarked dryly. I sent him a scathing glare that he disarmed by continuing to grin at me, before he extended an arm toward the hallway. "After you, Miss Swan, if I may be so bold and insult you with my show of chivalry."

"You should stress 'show' more, there's nothing chivalrous about checking out my ass."

He laughed as he closed the door behind him, then jogged a few steps to catch up with me.

"Why do you always have to believe it's all about you? And sex? Don't get me wrong, I know that as fellow human beings of fertile age and approximately the same age group we are bound to find each other attractive, but you're wielding the sex negative arguments like a war hammer. Sounds a lot like repression to me."

"Trust me, I repress nothing, not even the urge to tell you that you're an asshole."

"That, I'd never doubt," he grinned – and held the front door for me as well. I just shook my head and went ahead, not giving him the victory of looking back to see whether he was checking out my ass or not.

We walked the short distance to the coffee shop in silence, but while I tried to hold on to my undignified outrage, I couldn't fight the smile that kept tugging at the corners of my mouth. I might still not be entirely convinced about the merit of the class, but it was certainly fun to spend my Wednesday evenings bickering with Edward almost non-stop. Most guys in particular took offense at my brash, sometimes even brainless comments, but he easily deflected most, and dealt as good as he got. His lack of negative reactions was somewhat infuriating, but incredibly hot at the same time. Not that I cared, or something.

Like last week, we got our first round of beverages right at the bar – a latte for me, a double espresso for Edward – before we continued on to the back of the adjacent room, where a few more people than last week were already flocking to the comfortable seating area. Edward sat down at one end of the large, plush sofa, while I settled in the stuffed, velvet-covered armchair opposite him, happy not to have to wrestle for some comfortable space with someone else. Cullen arrived moments later, the five girls eagerly swarming out to take the seats next to him, in this case, two on the couch with Edward, one on the adjacent ottoman, and two more left and right of Carlisle himself. We ended up being a total of twelve people this time, enough for a great discussion round, but not yet too many to keep track of who was saying what.

"Any ideas for discussion topics for tonight? Anyone want to pick up a thread we left in the lesson?" Cullen turned to look at Edward first, then me. "I'm sure you two still have something to say to one of the topics where I hardly managed to shut you up in class."

Edward snickered but remained mute, and I chose to go with a shrug.

"Not really, I think I'll let my silence speak for me instead."

Mike, one of the guys who had been around last week as well, choked out a laugh under his breath, earning a scathing look from me.

"What?"

"I don't think you could manage that even if you tried. No offense. Defensive girls who have to shove their opinion down everyone's throat are the rage these days. I'm sure all the other bra-burning feminists are proud that you're still carrying their message on, thirty years later."

"Just because I don't let some chauvinist mainstream shit dictate how I see things, I'm a feminazi now? That's low."

"But he does have a point here," Cullen interjected. Of course he did. How could he have let something like that slip by with no comment? I simply raised my brows at him, not deigning to acknowledge that insult with words. Not surprisingly, he was only too happy to elaborate.

"I personally wouldn't call your very outgoing way of arguing defensive, nor do I think it should be credited to a feminist way of thinking, but the way you always take everything personally, while keeping a spacial distance does make it rather easy to come to that very conclusion. Just look at the place you selected. Almost everyone is sitting on communal furniture, while you have withdrawn to your armchair, where you can lord over us like a queen sitting on her throne."

That stung, but I did my best not to show it.

"I was just being polite," I offered, then kicked off my shoes so I could tuck my sock clad feet under my leg. "Don't want to subject anyone to what they might think is a misguided attempt to draw their attention to me in a physical way."

"But you don't deny that there's something to that argumentative point?"

I considered that for a while, then shrugged.

"I don't believe in playing nice or corrupting my morals just so that someone will find me attractive. You yourself said that you want debate, and you can't have that when everyone is polite and always agrees with one another."

"So you see it as your obligation to poke the anthill with a stick? Very mature." That one from Edward, who seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the brown-haired girl next to him had switched the center of her obsession from our professor to him. Not that her hand slowly inching toward his thigh bothered me, or something, but it was kind of disgusting to watch.

"Sometimes you need to be childish in order to make others realize their lack of adult behavior."

Her hand stilled inches away from the denim of his pants, then she yanked it back to rest in her lap instead. I couldn't help but grin at the nasty look she sent me. Amateurs.

"A very good point, as well," Cullen interjected. "Hive mind behavior is seldom complicated or well structured, even to the point where I'd say it reaches an existentially low level. So if the sum of your collective reactions furthers the more primitive streaks in all of us, shouldn't we try to instead infuse our community with a higher level of intellect?"

"Meaning?" I kept the part where he was again droning on only to sound intelligent, yet without actually saying anything of worth, to myself.

"For instance, take the public reactions to our politicians. These are the people who decide the fate of our nation for us, yet outside of political debates, there's more discussion about who has an affair with an office aide, or whether a congresswoman should wear more age appropriate clothes. We're bickering over small details that are very often far removed from the topic at hand, and many important questions get lost in the insubstantial ones."

"But I do think that a politician publicly cheating on his wife says a lot about his morals; I can't ignore that just because his political program is something I agree with. Actions do say a lot about people, not just the words they want us to hear," would-be gropy girl contributed to our discussion.

"You'd like him better if he non-publicly cheated?" Mike laughed. "Men have always cheated, and that won't change. Doesn't make him a bad guy, just a guy."

I couldn't let that go by without commenting.

"So if a guy cheats, that's okay, but if a woman has an affair the public has a right to burn her on the stake?"

"And here we go again," was his reply, delivered with a sleazy grin, followed by a leer. I just rolled my eyes at him; dressed in jeans, a simple shirt, and a wool cardigan there wasn't really anything to ogle about me.

"That's the sad truth about our society, Ms. Swan. In this aspect you are right; where moral and family values are concerned, women are always scrutinized twice as much as men. Then again, would you vote for a female presidential candidate who is cheating on her loving husband who is raising their kids in her absence, while she is touring the country on the campaign trail?"

"Probably not," I admitted grudgingly. I was waiting for him to call me a hypocrite, but Cullen went on without taking the opportunity for a personal attack.

"We live in a day and age where we claim that we are all sexually open, if maybe no longer as uninhibited as some were in the wild sixties. But still, dealing with topics that are in any way sexually charged makes us uncomfortable. We have problems accepting same-sex marriage, not because it's against our beliefs, but because it mostly concerns people who embrace their sexuality. We condemn teenage mothers because they obviously embraced, but maybe misjudged, their sexuality. Yet at the same time, beauty pageants all over the country dress up underage girls – who, in many cases, are still a long way from even realizing there is such a thing as sexuality – like models on the covers of glam magazines. Why? Because sex sells, but we don't want to dirty our hands by buying it. Comments?"

A moment of silence followed, and gropy girl was the first to speak up, and surprisingly intelligent at that.

"Dressing up three-year-olds as hookers is beyond disgusting. We live in a very superficial world, no question, but we shouldn't completely detach our actions from ethic values just to get ahead in the race for who's less real. Particularly women, who usually have to bear the brunt of that trend, are the ones who further it the most. They are the ones who keep the hypocrisy alive, keep others from changing the status quo, and extricate any individual from their midst who doesn't act according to the hive mind."

"I agree," I added, before Mike could do more than open his mouth. "If you're Secretary of State, you should be judged by your political successes, not whether your outfit is looking rad, or you're wearing a scrunchie to keep your hair out of your eyes as you step off the plane to meet foreign dignitaries."

A few of the guys laughed at that, and one of the girls nudged her friend beside her and murmured, "Eh, but Hilary did look kind of 80s chic in that!", but it was Edward who chose to take the counterpoint.

"At the same time, clothing restrictions and dress codes for men are just as idiotic, and in some cases chauvinistic, as for women. It's not all about sex, or even gender, anymore. The clothes you wear, the image you project outwardly, is who you are inside, or who you want the world to see you as. No one is forcing you to go into corporate business; but if you do, you'd better wear high heels and either a fitted skirt or pants suit, because otherwise you look like a slob, and no one wants to trust their money to a person who can't even show enough interest in their personal hygiene to dress themselves appropriately. Just the same, wearing a skin-tight dress that accentuates your cleavage is not appropriate dress for a kindergarten teacher. We can't read minds, and very often we don't have the time to get to know someone better who we have to trust to be an expert in their chosen field of work. How else than through artificial labels like outfits and other superficial means can we choose whom to trust, when we already know that they wouldn't be in this position if they didn't meet the prerequisites and come with the right qualifications?"

While he offered a few good arguments, I couldn't really agree with the entire statement.

"So what you are basically saying is that any remotely attractive woman who dresses up for a date is pretty much asking to be date raped, because, you know, she put her goods on display and thus is portraying her need for sexual intercourse?"

His cocky grin didn't even waver.

"I don't know, I seldom find myself in situations like that. Maybe you can help me see your point a little better? Like when a more-than-remotely-attractive woman, scantily clad, is implying that she needs my help to enter the frat party's wet t-shirt contest, is she asking me to have sex with her, or did she maybe just have one drink too much and a general disconnect between what she is trying to say, and what words actually come out of her mouth? I still think situations like that are highly dependent on the context they occur in, not the state of dress of any given participants."

I had a really hard time keeping a straight face at that, but my cheeks started feeling hot enough to bake bread on them within moments. Trying to make the best of it, I raised my coffee in salute to him.

"Touché. Of course, context is something we always have to consider, and should never disregard when judging any given situation."

"Man, I really get invited to the wrong parties," Mike tried for a jovial kind of male bonding, but Edward completely ignored him. He kept smirking at me for a moment longer, then turned to Cullen, who had followed our discourse with a slight smile on his face.

"You said before that group behavior usually brings out the worst in people, and furthers our basic needs. I read a paper this week about how being part of a group favors risk behavior. Not just so the alpha male can prove that he's the most reckless, thus strongest and most fit for survival, but also because he knows that in the context of the group, the presence of others is acting as support and safety net, should said risk behavior lead to less favorable consequences. According to this, the reason he doesn't jump off a 30-foot-high cliff when no one is there is not because he can't impress any potential mates, but in fact mostly self-preservation, as he wouldn't have anyone ready to help him if something went wrong. Yet it is that very phenomenon, the fact that with the group at his back he can take risks, that has greatly furthered us humans, as a species. We could hunt bigger game, get more protein to sustain us, and a larger brain that lets us come up with more intricate strategies to again let greater risk bring greater rewards."

Cullen nodded, and he seemed even a little impressed by the extra effort Edward seemed to have taken to support his argument.

"But still, it is about the individual acting not in accordance with the general group that this underlines."

Edward nodded, and briefly looked in my direction.

"Sure. While it's sometimes good to hide inside the group, to really shine we have to step out and take a risk – and hope that the others will catch us, should we fall." He stopped, then went on to me directly. "Let me guess, your reply to that will be that if the group is made up of women, they will let a fellow girl drop instead, because they're their own worst enemy? And men would let the woman fall because they don't care? Wouldn't it be wise not to take any risks then as a woman, just to save your hide?"

"I think you just summed up the fundamental problem of feminism for me," I replied, not giving him the satisfaction of letting him know that he had turned exactly the point I wanted to make against me. He really was a smooth fucker, and a bright one at that.

Thankfully, before our sparring could get more personal again, one of the other girls piped up.

"I don't really see why so many women nowadays have to bash feminism, but old family values just the same. Without the feminist movement, we wouldn't even feel like we had the right to sit here and demand to be treated as equals to men. At the same time, if there weren't still women out there who put their families over their own egoistic career esteems, there would be so many more children who grew up neglected and without the love and warmth of at least one parent. I'm not saying that women should give up their dreams just because they want kids, but maybe we should all be a little less egoistic and superficial, but value what little real things, like love, we can give."

I held my breath once she was done, ready to shoot down any of the guys who made a stupid remark about that, but this time Mike surprised me.

"Yeah, it's also unfair to say that just about women. My big brother pretty much raised me and my little sister because our dad left us, and our mom had to work 24/7 to just scrape by. Now he has kids of his own, and he's taking flak all the time because in his relationship, he's still the caretaker, brings the kids to school and to the doctor, while his wife's the one who's working long hours. Why can't a guy be accepted as the emotional center of a family? If I ever have kids, I want to spend time with them, too, not just work my ass off for twenty years because I was too stupid to use a condom once. Wanting to nurture my kids and make them grow up to be responsible adults doesn't make me a pedophile, it's called fucking parenting!"

"And we're back to our society being unable not to sexualize every single detail of our lives, while at the same time being equally incapable of handling such a sexually charged environment," Cullen concluded, when no one else seemed eager to pick up that thread.

"So it's still all about sex, all the time?" I surmised.

"When have things ever been any different?" was his candid answer.

Xxx

Just like the week before, Edward and I went home together, seeing as only our last, respective steps were different. We walked in silence, side by side, and I didn't really know what to say, considering he looked lost in thought. Guess that was the hazard of studying a subject that was all about asking questions, finding the answers, and mulling over what other answers millions of people had found to the very same questions before.

Or maybe he was just tired, or tired of my pseudo witty comebacks. And it wasn't like his jab at me about the frat party didn't still rub me the wrong way.

Never one to deal well with silence, I eventually caved, but tried to keep our conversation on neutral ground.

"That paper you mentioned, with the risk behavior being possible because of the protection a social group awards its members, where did you find that? Was that for one of your philosophy classes?"

He grinned, but still didn't look straight at me.

"Nope, I found it on a blog."

"What blog?"

"A geek blog I usually go to when I want to read reviews of books and superhero movies and graphic novels. And for my weekly fix of space porn."

"Space porn?" I snorted. "Like, Barbarella or James Bond – Moonraker style?"

Now he did look at me, his grin lopsided.

"No, actual pictures of space, like from the Hubble telescope. You girls really have dirtier minds than most guys."

"Never claimed that was any different. I mean, there must be a reason for all my foot-in-mouth comments, right?"

"Oh, fair maiden, to be able to gaze into that beautiful head of yours for just a few moments," he declaimed, striking a dramatic pose while walking backwards next to me now.

"I'm sure you can find better jerk-off material on the internet."

He considered that, then his grin widened.

"Yeah, I guess so. You're all talk – no real substance to back it all up with. I'm not sure if I could get more than a hard-on for someone describing two people getting at it, rather than letting me watch it."

"Did you just call me a tease?"

By then we had reached our hallway, and Edward walked up to his door before he stopped and turned around to face me.

"I don't know; would I be right if I did?"

I laughed, although I had to admit that the fact that he did seem at least somewhat interested in me was flattering.

"If I gave you a straight answer now, I wouldn't be a tease any longer, right? Guess you'll have to find out the hard way."

And because part of me was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, I glanced down at the crotch of his pants, before I donned a bright smile and wished him goodnight. He didn't answer, but didn't blush either, as he kept watching me turn my back to him and walk inside my room.

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed the chapter!<strong>

**Right now, university is really kicking my ass - like never before - and Tue is the worst day so far. If I don't make the next updates on time, I'll update on Wednesday afternoon instead! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A tip of the hat to a bunch of wonderful gals who helped me whip this fic into shape - V, MarchHare5, luvrofink, prassacut & chrissy1201.**

**Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! Everyone who's been with me for a while knows just how much of a review whore I am, but right now, with university wringing the very life out of me, I value them at least twice as much as before! It's awesome to know that there are still a lot of people out there who like what I do! THANK YOU!**

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><p>Another weekend, another party Tanya 'convinced' me to go to with her, another endless reel of too much booze and bad music. Although, this time the music was better, as it was the gig of a local band, and so was the alcohol, but that still didn't help much.<p>

In the handful of days the semester was old Tanya had already managed to accumulate four new marks on her bed post – yes, she was the type to mark them – and the only thing that surprised me about that was the fact that two of them had apparently been acquired during the day, while I was a good girl and hung out with my fellow students or studied my ass off in the library. As long as I didn't have to watch her exploits, I considered myself lucky. And just a little jealous that she managed to get in a couple of booty calls with her overflowing schedule. Not that I was getting desperate already, it had only been something close to 120 days since I had gotten laid. But who was counting, right?

The band playing before the main gig had just strummed their last chords as I found myself a nice place at the bar, flagging down the bartender to bring me a shot of something sharp and strong. One of Tanya's friends, Ivan or Igor or something equally Eastern European sounding, was ogling me across the room, but considering the girl momentarily grinding her ass against his crotch, I couldn't have been less interested. Random hookups were one thing, desperately throwing myself at the next available guy another – and I wasn't quite that frustrated yet. Now, the drummer of that band, I would have tapped that ass, but he was already getting dragged behind the stage by who I figured was his girlfriend, so another option was discarded.

At least the vodka was good, and I told myself I wasn't being pathetic as I nursed my glass in silence and solitude.

Solitude that was rather rudely interrupted when a large, panting body collided with the bar next to me, the tang of male sweat assaulting my nostrils.

"A bottle of water, and a shot of tequila!"

I had been about to rudely turn my back on the intruder, but when I recognized the voice, I had to look up. Sure enough, it was Edward, obviously fresh from the ten men mosh pit, judging from his general state of dishevelment.

"Didn't figure you for a head banger, Masen."

His body still moving to a beat that was no longer audible, he slowly turned his head, then grinned down at me.

"You never know what craziness lurks behind perfect manners."

"Even more so when they are sorely lacking in the first place."

His drinks arrived then and he ignored me for a few seconds in favor of rehydrating himself, then he picked up his glass and held it out to me. I wordlessly raised mine and clinked it against his.

"To lurking craziness!"

He laughed and downed his shot in one go. I felt myself strangely transfixed by how his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed, his scruff-covered neck shining with sweat as well. I really must have needed it badly if I started noticing things like that.

"See something you like? Or do I have a horrible zit somewhere there and you're just too polite to tell me?" he joked.

"Trust me, I'd be the first to tell you."

"True, you're definitely a strong believer in the philosophy that politeness is overrated."

I couldn't help but be a little offended by his offhand remark. I wasn't that bad... most of the time.

"Maybe people just don't give me a reason to be polite very often?"

He raised one eyebrow, a skill I would kill for acquiring.

"Really? Might be because of your brash demeanor. People usually don't react well to having insults shoved down their throat 24/7."

Maybe I was starting to PMS or something, but right now I really wasn't in the mood to take that kind of verbal abuse. Draining the rest of my vodka, I put the glass down with a little too much extra emphasis, then slid off my chair.

"You know what, jackass? I'll put my offensive self somewhere else then. Have fun jumping up and down like a maniac to more bad music."

I even made it two steps away, before he called after me.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! Wait! Don't leave me here. You're hands down the most pleasant thing I've bumped into tonight!"

I stopped, then turned around to glare at him full-on.

"I'm a thing, am I now?"

His face split into a grin as he extended his hands to his sides in a universally placating gesture.

"C'mon, let me have it for that! I deserve it! Do your worst, just don't leave me!"

The last he declaimed loudly, and one thing he was really bad at was singing, as it seemed. Heads around us turned, making him grin even brighter, and he turned one of his hands in my direction, holding it out to me.

"Please? I'll buy you a drink, too! Heck, I'd buy you three if I had the dough for it, but I'm afraid I'm all out of funds until I get my next paycheck Monday afternoon."

Shaking my head as I laughed under my breath, I returned to my seat, ignoring his hand entirely. Part of me wanted to touch him, and that was exactly why I didn't. The fact that I hadn't just walked out on him was concession enough. Obviously happy about his victory, Edward leaned against the bar stool next to mine, then ordered another round of shots for us. This time he was the one to propose a toast, to 'prickly company,' which made me laugh out loud.

"Are you stalking me, or what? It's the second weekend that we seemingly at random bump into each other; that can't be coincidence."

He laughed, then scratched his chin in a bad imitation of the typical movie evil mastermind.

"An interesting thought. I should have considered that. Then again, much more likely, we live in the same house where idiots dumped an entire bucket of flyers down the main staircase yesterday, littering the floor to the point where you could skate down the hall on them for hours. Maybe we accidentally happened to pick up one of those flyers in an entirely unconnected kind of way, which led to the suspiciously coincidental meet-up at this location?"

I struck a contemplating pose, the alcohol in my system making it much easier to let my comic side leak into my usually more serious behavior.

"Maybe. But I'm not convinced yet. You could have instigated the flyer dumping just to lure me here."

Edward chuckled at my suggestion, then shook his head.

"I might have a sadistic streak when it comes to trying to make you squirm, but even I wouldn't resort to something like that. I mean, did you hear them play? It's a miracle that our ears aren't bleeding yet."

"True," I conceded, then looked over to the stage where the next band was setting up their instruments and amps right now. "Do you know them?"

"Nope, I only transferred here from Chicago the week before the semester started. I haven't even gotten through the top five must see sights yet, let alone the local indie music scene."

"You're not really missing much."

He shrugged, not seeming to care, and took another sip of his tequila.

"Guess I'll have more than enough time to catch up over the next months. Speaking of time and deadlines, have you found a topic for Cullen's class yet?"

I shook my head, allowing myself a frustrated sigh.

"Nope. The downside of trying to be the bitch who keeps attempting to shake up his lecture plan is that I feel pressed to come up with something good, but turns out that psychology topics aren't really my forte when I'm flying free. You?"

"Not yet, although I can't say I feel the same pressure. I might even pick up one of his suggestions, if the fawnettes have left one or two unpicked yet."

"Fawnettes? Neat," I laughed, rather happy to get a broad grin from him in return. This vodka was definitely not assisting my higher brain functions.

"Thank you. I spent hours last night trying to come up with a witty term, so I could impress you when my stalkerish plan of luring you here worked out."

"Of course you did."

Just then the band started their sound check, and some of the chords made my teeth ache. Edward laughed at the face I made, then finished his drink.

"Wanna go somewhere else? I'm broke so I can't really take you out for a drink or coffee, but we could crash one of the parties on campus. If we pretend to belong, they won't even check whether we have a right to be there, or not."

"As if anyone gets kicked out of a party."

"We could try, if you want. I'm sure that if we do something memorable, like get it on, loud and proud, in the middle of the kitchen, where all the booze is usually kept, they'll evict us."

"From the kitchen, maybe, but I doubt it would get beyond that. Drunk people seem to have a strong resistance where public displays of -," I tried to come up with a good term, but failed, which made me grimace in turn. "Where fucking is concerned. They just might cheer us on, and throw things at us. And somehow the idea of getting it on while someone is pouring beer down my back isn't really all that appealing."

His grin didn't falter during my ramble, and several parts of my body definitely appreciated the way he kept looking at me.

"But the general concept of having sex with me doesn't throw you off?"

I considered that for a moment, but mostly to make him wait for my answer.

"No, why should it? If I do everything right you should be too out of it to keep insulting me. That might even be a pleasant change from the status quo."

"Good to know," he responded, then half turned towards the room, scanning the crowds. I had to admit, I felt a little rejected, but we had been joking. Mostly. No surprise that he was deflecting what wasn't really that much eagerness coming from me. I hoped.

That made me even more surprised when he looked back at me, his eyes narrowing in what looked close to quizzical.

"Look, I'm not looking for a relationship, or something. I like you, you're funny and easy to talk to, and your intellect is definitely a turn-on for me. Not that the exterior is lacking or anything, but my point is, I'm not looking for a girlfriend, and I don't want to miss making fun of the weird and naïve people of the world with you."

"And you think that just because I'm a woman sex always must mean love for me?"

My reply – and my wry tone, I hoped – made him laugh.

"No, just making sure we're on the same page here."

"Meaningless satisfaction of animalistic urges; I get it," I nodded.

"Hopefully not quite that meaningless, but yeah, basically that. No strings attached. Just sex."

This was going rather fast, but I had hooked up with guys over a lot less words, and the more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea.

"Sure, why not? To friends with benefits."

I clinked my glass against his empty one before I finished it, waiting for him to nod and echo my words. Then we kept staring at each other, evidently both waiting for the other to make the first move, and I couldn't help but grin wryly when he snorted and shook his head.

"What? Getting cold feet already?"

"Of course not. I was just thinking that you really are one of the most unique people I've ever met."

"Guess that's a good thing then?"

"A great thing," he agreed, then leaned into me, and without much further ado, kissed me. He still reeked of sweat, but my turned-on mind didn't perceive that as something negative anymore. He also smelled, and tasted, of whiskey, which mixed surprisingly with the hint of vodka still burning on my tongue. The slight stubble on his chin pricked the soft skin around my lips a little, but it wasn't unpleasant, and he certainly knew how to make a good first impression as he introduced his tongue to mine.

And I really hoped that that was about the last coherent sentence my brain would come up with for the time being, because I was really getting sick of letting my thoughts get in the way of what my body was more than ready for.

We broke away from each other, both panting heavily as the band started getting it on. It was better than the one before, but not by much, and I was more than happy to slide off my seat again as Edward snaked his arm across my lower back and gently, but insistently, nudged me toward the exit.

The night air was cool, but with summer not that long gone, I didn't even shiver in my light jacket. Edward seemed all but impervious to the cold in his t-shirt, and he certainly wasn't seeking out my body heat when his hand roamed down to squeeze my ass.

"Stop that."

"Why?" He laughed, then dug his fingers into my butt again.

"Because it's a dickish, possessive gesture, and just because I've agreed to have sex with you doesn't mean that you own me or something."

I probably should have stepped away from him as well, or at least swatted his arm away, because when I didn't, he just took that as an invitation and slid his hand into the back pocket of my jeans.

"Hey!"

"Don't be such a prude."

"I'm not a prude; I just don't want to be treated like a piece of, well, ass."

He started laughing at that, and I had to admit, I was fighting the urge to join him while I did my best to scowl up at him. He finally reined himself in, but kept his hand where it was.

"It's a gesture of appreciation, if anything, not of degradation."

"Why can't you appreciate my ass without having to grab it?"

"Because then you wouldn't bristle like a wet cat, which is, let me tell you, far more entertaining than just grabbing a random, well formed posterior."

"You're insufferable, do you know that?"

"Thank you," he replied, obviously pleased by my frustration. And still, his hand remained where it was. I had to admit, I was slowly warming up to it, although I could think of several other places on my body I would have appreciated it even more – but probably not in public.

The walk from the bar to our dorm was short, not taking any longer than ten minutes, which was a good thing, because I was seriously afraid that I would have to leave him hanging, high and dry, without getting any if he kept doing worse things than that.

We halted briefly in front of the building, and Edward looked down at me critically.

"We can't go to my room. I'm sure Eric is still up and hasn't set a foot outside, and of all the people I don't want to fuck in front of, he's right on top of the list."

"No problem. I doubt Tanya will be back for several hours; we can use mine. Nothing against a hefty amount of stamina, but if you need four hours to come, like some over-viagra-ed porn star, I'll kick you out way before that, anyway. I want to have fun, not end up chafed raw."

"Four hours? You're kidding, right? I think my dick just tried to crawl inside my pelvis, and that's quite the feat, considering how hard you're making me."

The way he wriggled his eyebrows as he said that made me laugh, and I couldn't resist reaching over to him and rubbing said part of his anatomy through the coarse material of his jeans.

"Hm, nice," I purred, then joined his laughter as I started pulling him towards the door, my fingers hooked into the waistline of his pants.

"Nice? Woman, stop insulting me, or I'll show you 'nice'!"

"Sounds promising."

We only made it up the first landing of the stairs before I staggered into the wall, and somehow found myself wedged there between the hard plaster and Edward's body while his lips eagerly searched for mine – while his hand still remained on my ass. I playfully nipped at his lower lip, then pulled his head down to me so I could join us in a hungry, sloppy kiss. He moaned appreciatively, grinding his hips against mine, and I had to admit that I was quickly growing tired of playing games.

Someone came down the stairs and giggled as she passed us, but neither of us gave a shit, although it was a good excuse to push him away once the air in my lungs ran out. I left my hand bunched up in his t-shirt as I grinned hungrily at him, then gave a decisive yank on it.

"That needs to get off. Come on, it's only two more floors up. Race you!"

Reluctant as we both were of letting go of each other, it was more a staggering procession than a race, but we eventually made it into my room. In our hurry to tear each other's clothes off, I almost fell over some books I had stacked on the floor next to my bed, inadvertently pulling Edward with me as I landed on my back on the mattress. He started to laugh but I quickly shut him up with another kiss, and his need for satisfaction seemed to surpass that to make fun of me right then.

He was still fighting with his jeans while I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra, happy to get the stupid thing out of the way before he could prove, or not, that he knew how to handle it. Once that was out of the way, I angled for my nightstand to switch on the light, and in afterthought dug the box of condoms from the top drawer. Edward abandoned what had started to look like a futile search of his pockets then, in favor of going in for the kill, which in this case was pushing me into my pillow so he could keep me there with only the pressure of his lips against mine, while his hand yanked down my panties and let them fall to the floor. I made a mental note not to bother with a g-string again, when horny guys so obviously didn't give a shit as long as whatever I was wearing was discarded easily enough, while I let my hands run down the surprisingly hard muscles on his back. Naked, he looked more buff than I had given him credit before, although he was still a comfortable distance away from the fitness junkies plaguing TV nowadays.

His hand ghosted up my side to find my breast, while his mouth left mine to kiss a wet trail down to join his fingers. I watched with some amusement how eagerly his lips latched onto my nipple, flicking it repeatedly before he sucked on it, but when his other hand got a little too rough on my other tit, I pushed my hand decisively against his forehead to both dislodge him, and make him look at me.

"Do you mind not mauling my tits as if you were kneading dough? I'm sure some random bimbo out there gets off on that, but me, not so much."

I waited to see that typical look of hurt male pride cross his face, but he just lessened the pressure of his grip, without letting go, though.

"Why don't you give me the full set of quick instructions of how to make Bella Swan come screaming then?"

"Can you take instructions? Because I won't bother if you just ignore whatever I say anyway."

"I'll try to do my best," he laughed, then leaned forward to steal a kiss that left me breathless for a moment. With his eyes barely enough away for me to fully focus on them he went on. "And, of late, no one has complained about my skills."

That made me snicker, but being able to laugh when you're in bed together – or wherever else you end up screwing like horny bunnies – was always a good sign.

"Are you always such a cocky fucker?"

"You should know me well enough by now to know the answer to that."

"So, yes," I grunted playfully, then pushed on his shoulder until he moved back into a half kneeling position between my legs. I looked at him for a moment, enjoying the chance to rake him with my gaze while he did the same to me. The way his hard cock was standing at the ready made me lick my lips, but I had to admit that, panting and agitated as we both already were, now wasn't the time for foreplay.

"Instructions. Well, as I said, I prefer my tits not to be manhandled too much. A little squeezing and the occasional love bite is fine, though."

"Duly noted," he quipped back, his hungry gaze on my chest, before he looked at my face again. "What else?"

I felt my cheeks heat up as I considered my next words, but it's wasn't as if I was exactly embarrassed about this. After all, I was spread naked on my back before him, one of my legs next to his, the other draped over his thigh.

"I don't mind giving you a blowjob, but I expect you to reciprocate in kind. When I'm really horny like now, I don't need much foreplay, but it would be nice for you to check if I'm wet enough before you shove your cock into me. And I don't do anal, at least not on the first hookup with a guy." Or the fifth, and seeing as things had never processed beyond that point until now, not ever, but I didn't feel the need to inform him of that quite yet.

Edward nodded, taking all that in stride, and with about as much reaction as if I were reciting my grocery list.

"And I only fuck with a condom, so don't even think about whining about wanting to go bareback. I have no interest ending up knocked up in college, and I don't need to catch any STDs just because you can't take a little pinch and slightly less sensation."

"I always use a rubber. Although you don't have to worry about catching anything from me. I'm clean."

"Don't they all say that?" I snarked, then grabbed one of the packages from the condom box and threw it at him. "Actions speak louder than words."

He smirked at me while he tore the foil – with his fingers, not his teeth – then rolled the condom onto his cock, stroking himself a couple of times to make sure it was in place.

"What else?"

"I think that's it. Well, I do like missionary, but only with a pillow under my ass and my legs in the air, otherwise the angle is a bit boring. Otherwise, I prefer doggy style, angle of penetration again, or cowgirl, when you're too lazy to do most of the work."

"I do hope you'll participate in the other two as well and don't just lie there like a dead fish. I can't stand girls who do that."

"Why don't you come and find out?" I shot back. He kept on grinning, but let his gaze roam from my face down to where he now stroked one of his hands up my thigh, then between my legs. I held my breath as I felt one of his fingers circle my entrance, then trail up to my clit, just as he pushed two others into me. A low moan left me while I rolled my hips eagerly against his hand, and this time his cocky grin was definitely sexy.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" he asked, annoying me a little that he kept talking instead of doing something more useful with his body.

"No?" With the capability of rational thought quickly fleeing me, that was about the extent of what I felt comfortable answering. His mouth curled up on the right side while he tried to look at me sternly, but the effect was kind of lost on me.

"How do you want to be licked?"

"Oh, that," I huffed, making him laugh.

"Yeah, that. With the way you tore me a new one just because I grabbed your ass and groped your tit a little too enthusiastically, I was expecting a ten minute speech on your oral sex preferences."

"Jerk!"

"Shrew."

Just then he twisted his fingers a little bit, proving that he knew very well exactly where my g-spot was, making me lose track of my indignation for a moment. Not that I minded, but I couldn't give him the satisfaction of being able to reduce me to a whimpering heap of need so fast, while he himself still seemed perfectly capable of witty comebacks.

"As it is, right now I'd really appreciate it if you fucked me instead. Don't worry, I'll save that lecture for later."

Thankfully, that was all the incentive he needed to stop fooling around, and in short order I found my lower orifice vacated, and my body dragged down the bed as he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer. I was about to remind him of that pillow requirement I had just spoken of, but he shushed me with a kiss, while he snaked one arm underneath my lower back. With my legs slightly bent and the heels of my feet somewhere between his sides and back he entered me, the guiding arm underneath me doing a good job of supporting me while he kept me just where he needed me to be.

Forgetting all about my now futile protest, I eagerly deepened the kiss as I felt his cock push into me, filling me quite nicely. He definitely wasn't small, but I had seen, and on one occasion, felt, larger cocks, yet I forgot all about that as well once he set it to good use. And that I had to give him, he knew how to set every hard, thick inch to good use.

After my little diatribe about my preferences, I half expected him to go slowly at first, but he didn't seem to feel the need to test the waters. His hips picked a good, steady rhythm from the start, his arm guiding me to join him, and once it was obvious just how much I was enjoying myself from my moans, groans, and general gripping on to him with everything I had, he picked up more speed, while his tongue kept teasing mine. I normally wasn't quite that vocal about my carnal enjoyment, but when he murmured into my ear that my moans were so hot, I didn't bother to swallow them. Close as we were, my tits kept rubbing against his chest, the light sprinkle of hair there driving me wild, and before long it was impossible for me not to verbally spur him on.

I came embarrassingly fast, but right then I didn't give a shit. His panting got louder as he watched me writhe in need underneath him, and I loved how intently his gaze was fixed on my face, while he never stopped fucking me. I lost my rhythm halfway through my climax, but he dutifully kept on until the high pitched sounds stopped coming from deep inside my chest. I only had a couple of moments to catch my breath as he set me down on the bed and withdrew his arm from my lower back, and I watched curiously as he settled back on his feet. His intent became clearer when he grabbed my ankles and pulled them up onto his shoulders, then pushed back into me. I couldn't help laughing when he turned his head to the side and licked over my ankle before he kissed it, then grinned down at me, his hips never missing a beat.

"How sensitive are you right now?"

I shrugged, biting my lip to keep another lewd moan in.

"Somewhat, why?"

"I want to watch you rub yourself while I keep fucking you. Makes me so hot when a girl's not afraid to help herself to some extra satisfaction."

Just listening to his words made me clench around him briefly, and I didn't hesitate to grant his wish. My fingers met slick, puffy flesh, unsurprisingly, and I made a bit of a show of moaning and rolling some of my weight back onto my shoulders as I started rubbing my clit with two fingers. In afterthought, I let my other hand travel to my tit and started playing with my nipple, loving how my own touch furthered the wonderful sensations he evoked deep inside of me.

Edward seemed to be torn between looking at either my hand, working my clit frantically, while my fingers kept rubbing against the sides of his cock as he withdrew from me, or my other hand while I licked my lips seductively. Either, or both, eventually pushed him to his limits, and he came with a deliciously cut-off incoherent shout. I made as if to stop working myself when he stopped with his cock deep inside of me, but his grasp on my ankles only tightened as he shook his head.

"No, make yourself come. I want to feel you come again while I grow soft inside of you."

No guy had ever asked me that. Then again, most of them would have flopped down lifeless on the bed by then, and I certainly didn't mind granting that request. After the constant friction of his cock going in and out of me, just feeling a lessening pressure instead took a little getting used to, but it wasn't that difficult to let my fingers substitute for what he couldn't give me anymore otherwise. He kept drinking me in as I orgasmed again, shivering and pushing myself against him needily. My last spasms eventually pushed his cock out of me, and he took a moment to pull the condom off and knot it up. He gratefully accepted a tissue from me to clean himself, then got up briefly to discard both in the trash can by my desk. I could already hear Tanya gloating in my mind, but didn't give a shit about that at all right now. It wasn't as if I was going to hide this encounter from her, or something.

Edward then re-joined me on the bed, crawling into the space between the wall and me so he could cradle me close with one arm as he kissed me again, slower and almost languidly now. While I wasn't too much into cuddling after a tryst like that, feeling his hot, sweaty body against my own was nice, and we kept kissing without further touching each other for a couple of minutes. Eventually, he let go of me and settled on his side, looking down at where I ended up lying flat on my back again. I was still too hot to consider wrestling with the covers underneath me, and as the danger of anyone barging in was low to zero, I didn't care about my modesty much. Plus, that also meant I got to keep glancing at the hard planes of his body, and it was kind of nice to have a naked guy lying next to me.

"Ready for round two?" he asked as my eyes finished roaming over his body and returned to his face. I pointedly looked down at where his flaccid cock lay on his thigh.

"Maybe, but you don't look quite up to it yet."

As much as that lopsided grin infuriated me in conversations, right then it was a definite turn-on.

"I don't need my cock to make you go crazy, when I have my fingers, lips, and tongue."

He leaned over me then, already en route to the promised land between my thighs, but I held him back with a light laugh, and a prod against his shoulder that made him sag back into the bed.

"Now I really might be a little oversensitive. Give me a couple more minutes."

"Why? Is it painful to have your clit touched so soon after coming twice before?"

"Uhm, no, not that."

"What then?"

I considered lying for a moment, but as comfortable as our conversations had grown along the way, that would have been the kind of betrayal I didn't want to deliver.

"No, I just don't want to give you the satisfaction of coming the moment you start licking me! You're already a smug enough bastard as it is, somewhat deservedly so, I admit, but if you know what's good for you, you'll let me recover until I have recovered enough that I can at least claim to myself that I made you work for getting me to give it up again."

All through my explanation he kept smiling, and the end made him chuckle.

"Seriously? You're worse than any guy you'd probably call a chauvinist pig."

"Never said I wasn't a hypocrite myself," I grumbled back, then grinned when he leaned over to kiss me.

"How about we keep that for another day then, so that I really have to put some effort into making you scream again?"

I huffed at that, but considering just how tired my thighs were, that didn't sound like a bad idea.

"Sure. It's not like I have to go very far to track you down."

He flashed me a bright grin and inclined his head.

"You know where to find me."

I considered that for a moment, then laced my fingers through his hand where it was idly stroking my thigh.

"This doesn't make things weird between us, right? You'll still insult me over coffee next week?"

"I wouldn't know how not to; you bring out the worst in me."

"Good. Because the last thing I need is another thing to complicate my life."

"I complicate your life if I don't insult you? Wow, woman, back off; you're getting a little too co-dependent on me there!"

I punched his bicep lightly, making both of us laugh.

"Don't worry. I can find someone else for that, too, if you don't live up to my standards anymore." He narrowed his eyes briefly before his face smoothed out into a weirdly neutral look, making me let go of him and push myself up onto my elbows instead. "You know that this is a non-exclusive, for sex thing? That was what we agreed on, right?"

His smile returned, with backup.

"It is. Just makes me wonder how you can be so uncomplicated in bed, but such a pain in the ass outside of it."

It was easy to return his playful sneer with one of my own.

"Because I'm special, one of a kind! Now, either get out, or get it on again, you're starting to bore me."

Edward shook his head, laughing, as he pushed himself up and over me so he could start gathering up his clothes.

"No need to get rude! I just made you come twice!"

"Once; the second was entirely my doing."

"Yeah, sure, after I fucked you so long and hard that anything could have made you come, just like that."

He didn't bother pulling on his jeans, socks, and shoes, just his boxers and t-shirt, and after stealing a last kiss he trudged out of my room, the echoing slam of the door opposite mine setting a final end to our horizontal tango.

I considered getting up to grab a shower, but then refrained from it. Right now, all I wanted was to fall asleep in my bed as long as it still smelled of him and me and sex. Tomorrow, when my arousal had died down, everything would just be a memory, and a gross heap of sheets that needed to be washed very badly, and there was no reason why I shouldn't enjoy my current mellow, satisfied state, which was exactly what I did.

Uncomplicated sex with no strings attached can be the most wonderful thing in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

**A huge THANK YOU! to the lovely V, chrissy1201, and prassacut for all their help, comments, jokes, and shoulders to cry on!**

**I'm deeply grateful for everyone who's left me a review, email, or comment on FB or twitter. You rock! Just, please, don't tell me my fics are the most screwed up thing you've ever read and give you nightmares anymore.**

* * *

><p>"Please, take a seat, Ms. Swan," Cullen said for an introduction, gesturing at the two chairs in front of his desk. Once I sat down, so did he, leaning back as he studied me with interest. "I presume you're here to talk about the topic for your presentation and discussion?"<p>

"Yes," I said, hating that I sounded less than confident, but deciding had been anything but easy. "I want to do my presentation on collective trust."

"An interesting topic, and, without a doubt, fitting into the curriculum of this semester."

I couldn't help but take that as slight criticism for my lack of coming up with something more original, but maybe explaining my point would help – if only to make me feel like I'd tried.

"I read a paper on how intergroup relations are more competitive than interindividual ones. I'd like to discuss that in class."

He remained silent for a couple of seconds, clearly expecting me to go on, but when I didn't, a small frown appeared on his forehead.

"I think I've read the paper you're most likely referring to, but I have to admit, I'm surprised that you didn't pick a more controversial topic."

"Like?"

"Something about group think, group polarization, social loafing – pretty much everything besides the fact that the new kid in high school might be welcomed by the kid next door, but won't be accepted into the cheerleader squad after she joined the chess club."

As usual, his rebuke rankled far more than it should have. I was almost upset when I realized that I actually wanted him to care about what I had to say, and approve of it as well. I hadn't felt an urge like that since junior high.

"I don't think that's what the paper is about."

He scoffed softly, as if he doubted I had what it took to understand that.

"What do you think it is about?"

"Inside a group we co-operate well enough, and we're ready to trust individuals outside of the group, but not other groups. Intergroup relations breed suspicions. To use your example, the entire social hierarchy in high school exists not because the cheerleaders think they are in any way better than the chess club, but because they don't trust the other group based on suspicions that arouse because of them being a group, yet not a number of non-trustworthy individuals."

He thought about that briefly, then actually started to laugh. It was only a small laugh, not a sarcastic bray, but it felt like a slap in the face nevertheless. The urge to simply get up and flunk his course was strong, as was the one to cry. I was determined to give him the satisfaction of doing neither.

"What's so funny about that? And, just so you know, right now you're not coming across as the intelligent, educated college professor, either."

"I'm sorry," he uttered the clearly dishonest, and so far most offensive, words yet. "But I can't let you commit suicide in front of everyone with that bullshit."

I blinked, then cleared my throat.

"The topic, or my conclusion?"

"Both, actually. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't go as far as to discredit the honest, hard working statistics manipulators who published that study, but this really is beneath you. You have a brilliant mind, and the confidence to get that across. Why hide behind a second rate topic?"

I'd never met a man who could both insult and compliment me in such short order, and appear to be completely sincere.

"You think I'm brilliant?"

It was a little unsettling to watch him hold my gaze intently, yet without any emotion showing on his face until he spoke again, and even then it remained unreadable to me.

"I don't have a single doubt about it. What I do wonder about is whether your brash demeanor and defensiveness will get in the way of it sooner or later, or further your advance. I'd love to be a part of your journey, if you will let me guide you."

He was clearly manipulating me, but I couldn't help glowing at his words nevertheless. I just wasn't sure what, exactly, he was offering me.

"You think I should go for a more controversial topic then? I'm all ears for suggestions."

"I wasn't just meaning for your discussion turn, but, very well." He put the tips of his fingers together in front of him, looking at them briefly before his gaze swept back to me. "You clearly enjoy rattling cages, and going up against social norms, am I right?"

"If they need to be rattled and went up against, yes."

He pursed his lips.

"What do you think about – for the sake of your presentation only – taking over the place of being the one who builds said cages and enforces points to make the others see them as norms? If you pull that off – and I have no doubt that you will, if you just set your mind to it – I guarantee you that you'll get top scores."

"And how is that different from what I'm usually try to do?"

Now his grin could only be considered smug.

"Find that out, and you'll succeed. You can thank me thirty years from now when that exact tactic will let you pull the carpet out under an opponent's feet, and they'll even thank you for it. Certainly a skill that comes in handy for diplomats, the same as loving homemakers."

"Like you just buttered me up and made me gobble up every single word you say about me?"

Cullen laughed, actually having the grace of looking slightly abashed.

"Touché, but I think in this case, this only underlines that I wasn't just blowing smoke up your ass when I said that you had a brilliant mind."

I gave that some more thought, but there wasn't really much I could say other than agree.

"Very well. You'll hopefully see the conclusion my allegedly brilliant mind reaches when it's my turn to present my topic and lead the public discussion."

"This week."

That certainly threw me for a loop.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me right. I want you to do it in this week's class."

"But that's two days from now!"

"Last time I looked, it is. Will that be a problem for you? The semester has only just started; your schedule can't be that busy yet." I tried to argue with that, but before I could do more than open and close my mouth twice, he went on. "I don't believe in coddling my students, not the less talented ones, but the really intelligent ones not at all. You must see some merit in staying in my class, or you would have gone through with your initial plan of trading places with someone else. You want what I have to offer, so either take it, or leave it."

I had to admit, he rose in my esteem by saying that, rather than sank. It was still upsetting that he wanted me to wrangle that task in less than 50 hours, but it was not impossible – and I had always loved a challenge.

"I guess I should get going then, seeing as I have to catch up on at least two years of psychology in two days."

He nodded, allowing himself a small, victorious smile that I felt just a little insulting, but well deserved just the same. I got up then, and turned to go, but he held me back by clearing his throat loudly.

"Another minute of your time, please, if you can spare it."

I nodded, not sure I liked that last minute intervention or not.

"Sure, a minute more or less won't make me embarrass myself in front of an entire room of people on Wednesday."

He credited that with a tight-lipped smile, and now the intense way he kept looking at me, as I stood before his desk, was creeping me out just a little bit.

"Would you have sex with me if I asked you to?"

And there went about all the good points he had raked in today. I stared at him flatly, not even considering that possibility, but just wanting to let him wait for my reply.

"In exchange for something? Grades, more time to prepare for my project, something like that?"

He chuckled – a rich sound that I might have found alluring under different circumstances, but right then it was just putting me off.

"No, simply for the sake of it. I don't believe in favoritism for carnal offers."

"So you are, actually, propositioning me? Your student, who is, in many senses of the word, dependent on you? Despite the discouragement of the university regarding such acts, and any probable clauses in your contract?"

He nodded, still not looking away from me.

"I am. And there's no need for you to get defensive again. Your answer won't, in any way, influence your grades, or how I will treat you in class. I keep my personal and professional lives strictly apart."

"You don't really believe that bullshit yourself, do you? Because I'm not gullible or naïve enough to, either. My answer is no. And I won't change my mind."

Cullen didn't reply, but the way the corner of his mouth turned up, I got the sense that he didn't take me entirely seriously. That, even more than his proposition in the first place, grated, and kept my spine rigid as I walked out of his office.

Xxx

The rest of the day I spent both angry at Cullen himself, and working myself into a small panic over my assignment. I had to admit, I had never given the subject of psychology the credit it deserved, and I saw that all too plainly when I started working my way through the books I found in the library. To me, it had always been a kind of guilty pleasure, something I loved to theorize about, but not actually take seriously as a discipline equaling my own chosen field of study. The more I read, the more I realized that I had backed myself into a corner with my flat out refusal to even consider Cullen's offer. Not that I wanted to go back on my words, certainly not, but a brighter woman would have acted coy, and charmed another week of time out of him before she let him down slowly. Sure, I didn't need the course, but I didn't want to quit it, either, and the entire situation was starting to turn into something I would have found laughable if he had brought it up in class.

By evening, mild panic had turned into full blown anxiety, fueled by too much coffee, and the fact that I couldn't even complain to anyone about it didn't help. I knew that Tanya's advice would be to go back into Cullen's office and apologize, get on my knees, and suck him off – and not necessarily in that order. I had a couple of other friends on campus, sure, but the last thing I needed was for any of them to know even a hint of my dilemma.

And, there was Edward.

Tanya was running late because she was doing some extra credit lab work – for once I really believed that that wasn't just code for something, but the truth – and staying alone in my room, brooding over my notes, was getting more and more unnerving by the minute. And with distraction just ten yards away from where I sat, I eventually caved.

Edward opened his door on my second knock, fast enough that I wondered if he had secretly been lying in wait for an opportunity like that. Which, of course, was absolutely ridiculous, but the idea alone made me feel a little less silly about my need for company, so I didn't discard it right away.

"Hey."

"Hey there yourself," he replied, a slight smile on his face. "Need anything?"

I scoffed when he did that suggestive raising of one eyebrow that he'd used on me before, but I had to admit, it was still kind of sexy.

"You're so full of yourself."

"True. But that's not an answer."

I nodded, then swallowed my pride.

"Wanna come over for a bit?"

He looked genuinely surprised, as if despite his antics, he hadn't really expected this to turn into a booty call; but, like any other guy in the world, he was very fast to catch on to it when sex was involved.

"Sure. Lead the way and I'll follow."

"Yeah, like you don't know where we're going."

By then he had stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind himself, shutting his roommate out of our conversation.

"Do I know? You could want to molest me in a supplies closet just as well."

I snorted, then took his hand and pulled him into my room. Things definitely started to pick up from there, when I found myself pressed against the back of my now closed door, his lips urgently seeking mine, but I pushed him away after one passionate kiss.

"Easy there, tiger. I don't need you just for that, or I would just have gotten my rabbit out and scratched that itch myself."

Edward didn't move out of my personal space, but he didn't make any attempts to tickle my tonsils with his tongue, either. Instead he stayed where he was, keeping me locked in the cage he built with his body, his hands left and right of my head.

"If you didn't drag me over here just for sex, what else do you need from me?"

I licked my lips, suddenly a little self-conscious about this, and not entirely sure if I should really confide in him. I didn't really know him, and while I liked him, it was probably a bad idea to spill my guts to him.

"I guess sex will do after all."

"You're not telling me something that two minutes ago was important enough to drag me across the hall. Spill. I promise, I'll only judge you if it's something really ridiculous, and it won't leave this room, either way." When I still didn't reply, he pulled his right hand back from the door and held it up between us. "I solemnly swear I'll take whatever you tell me to my grave."

"It's not that bad," I hedged, then sighed when he took my hand and started dragging me over to my bed. He sat down, but I remained standing, yet I felt oddly happy about him not withdrawing his fingers from mine.

"Spill. Just rip it off like a band-aid."

I really wanted to, and the words were already taking form in the back of my throat, but at the last moment I faltered.

"Cullen assigned me this week's spot for my presentation. And not only did he ream me over the topic I wanted to choose, now I'm freaking because I'm afraid that I'll make a complete ass of myself in front of everybody. You know, smartass girl who has to yap at every possible hole in everyone's theories, only to be a complete failure when it's time to show that she can do better."

Edward grinned up at me, clearly agreeing with my self-assessment, but he didn't voice his opinion.

"I'm sure you'll wipe the floor with them, with or without a couple of weeks preparation. You could probably do it right now, even without a concrete topic. Do you really need me to tell you that the last two discussion rounds you've almost single-handedly kept us all on our toes?"

"Now you're just trying to sweet-talk me into having sex with you," I chided playfully.

"Why, sure, is it working?"

Part of me wanted to hit myself over the head for shying away from what I really needed to get off my soul, but it was simply so much easier to let him pull me closer until I was straddling him, and from there on, things proceeded without much need for words, although we still found a good way to use our mouths and tongues.

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed the chapter!<strong>

**It's charity time again! I've just finished writing my o/s contribution for the Fandom4Texas Wildfire Relief compilation, and I'm also contributing another o/s for Fandom Gives Back! Sadly, because FGB is a compilation with a looming deadline this time around I can't write the story I wanted to offer for it, but I'm sure you'll still enjoy the one-shot. Check my blog or FB page for teasers (F4T is up, FGB will follow!) It's for a good cause, so join and donate!**

**In November, I'm embarking on my yearly NaNoWriMo tryst, if you're a maniac novelist as well, feel free to add me as a writing buddy!**

**With university still killing me, I have very limited time to write, and NaNoWriMo and the two o/s are probably all I can do until I run out of AGoT chapters in early December. Right now, I'm very unhappy with the twi fandom at large, and I can't promise you regular updates until the story is complete, but I'm trying hard to keep up with it. Please know that your support is greatly appreciated (and much needed, as well)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A huge THANK YOU! to the lovely V, chrissy1201, and prassacut for all their help, comments, jokes, and shoulders to cry on!**

**I'm so very grateful for everyone who's left me a review or comment on FB or twitter. You even hit the 60 mark this time! You rock! THANK YOU!**

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><p>Tuesday came and went with a lot of panic and uncertainty, but as Wednesday dawned I was convinced that I would either fail tremendously, or rock my entire class. Whatever the outcome, I would give it my best, and I would reap the benefits I deserved.<p>

A brief summary of what I was occupied with had been enough to make Tanya keep her usual rambling to herself, letting me work through two consecutive nights, even though I knew she couldn't sleep very well with the lights on. She even made me coffee at 4 a.m., and forwent asking why there was another used condom in the trash.

I had a lecture early that morning, so I skipped out before I could disrupt her beauty sleep any further, and on the way back I brought a small peace offering of fresh muffins and croissants from the coffee shop. By then, Tanya was awake and moving, if not yet completely up to her usual game – or so I thought, until she fixed me with her most pointed no-nonsense glare over her second helping.

"Just who is this mystery guy that you keep sneaking in here under my nose? I let you off the hook the past couple of days because I know that asshole of a professor is making your life a living hell right now, but I can't stand the uncertainty any longer!"

Because of her derogatory remark about Cullen, for a moment I was afraid that Tanya had somehow gotten wind of his proposition, but then I realized she was simply referring to my unnervingly last minute assignment.

"He's just a guy I have a class with, that's all."

"Which class? Just one means he's not a future world dominator like you, right?"

I grinned at that and munched some more muffin myself.

"Depends. He's a philosophy major. And it's Cullen's psychology class that we share."

"Ah, the plot thickens. And judging from those rubbers, not just the plot."

I rolled my eyes at her, ready to answer that with something befittingly stupid, when she straightened, her eyes narrowing as something occurred to her.

"Hey, wait a minute. That guy from across the hall is a philosophy guy. What's his name? Edwin, Irwin, something like that?"

"Edward."

"Aha!" she cried, loud enough that she should have caused the window panes to rattle.

"Aha what? So I know his name. Unlike you, I make a point of knowing people's names."

"Whatever. You're totally banging him."

"Just what makes you think that?"

Her smile grew almost predatory as she started ticking off options with her fingers.

"One, you are bad with names, and for you to not only notice a guy, but also know his name, you have to have some interest in him. Two, I saw you guys talking in the hall a couple of times, and trust me when I say that you were totally eye fucking each other, even before last weekend. Three, you're blushing, and while you love to pretend to be this mature kind of man-eater, you always blush when you're trying to be sneaky about sex. And four, you'd totally have ripped me a new one if my guess had been wrong."

I knew I was bad at hiding things, but when she got like that, a trained spy couldn't have kept the truth from her.

"Okay, I give up. Guilty as charged. We had sex."

Tanya rubbed her hands together, clearly pleased with her deductive skills, then diverted her attention to me and her coffee.

"So, is he any good? I presume he is, or you wouldn't have called for a repeat performance."

"He's okay."

"Just okay? B, you're grinning from ear to ear while you're rubbing your thighs together not so subtly. 'Okay' doesn't cause those reactions."

I sighed theatrically.

"He's great. Satisfied now? Not 'porn star on vacation' kind of great, but 'I'm happy he's living next door and I don't have to shut him up because he just spews nonsense unless we're fucking' great."

Tanya cocked her head to the side.

"Sounds like more than just sex to me."

"No romance; no relationship. Neither of us wants that. But he's a smart guy and fun to talk to, so, yeah, there's more, but not what you might think."

She looked almost offended in turn.

"I know that you don't date, B. Hell, I would be the first to try to break you up if you did."

"Aw, you're the best promiscuous roommate a girl could have!"

Tanya blew me a kiss, then angled for the newspaper I had brought in with me earlier.

"You can thank me by inviting me to your wedding, or something. But no bridesmaid. I look hideous in satin pink, and that's one thing I won't do for you."

I laughed, letting that be my only answer. Tanya could be hilarious when she wanted to – and sometimes even when she didn't. My eyes snagged on my laptop then, reminding me that I still had to put the finishing touches on the actual presentation I was going to give later today, but before I could get up, Tanya's next words held me rooted to the spot.

"Edward, fine, fine, but why did you look at me like I'd accused you of eating babies alive when I mentioned the reason you two even met? I've never met Carlisle Cullen, but from what I hear on campus, he's one of our more capable professors, and while he might hound you with the shitload of work you had to literally pull out of your hat, that doesn't explain your reaction."

I stealthily glanced at her, and while she still seemed immersed in the newspaper, I wasn't fooled.

"He's a jerk, but at least he's intelligent. He's insulting, too, and if I had even a thread of self-preservation I'd have dropped his class last week at the latest."

"Oh, you wouldn't. The only thing a guy has to do to get your attention is to throw you off." She kept staring at the paper for another second, but then folded it so she could look at me unhindered. "You love that there's someone out there who challenges you. You'd never flounce that course, even if it meant ruining your GPA if you didn't. All that explains why you keep coming back for more, and I guess also your two all-nighters this week, but not that wide-eyed, deer caught in the headlights look. That's coming from something else."

Right then, I hated that she was such a smart cookie, and knew me so well. The temptation to tell her the truth was great. But, knowing Tanya, she would just keep digging and digging until the conversation progressed to parts I didn't really want to discuss – like the fact that, even though his offer disgusted me, there was a part of me that was not only twistedly honored that Cullen showed this kind of interest in me, but also a step away from considering taking him up on it. After all, hundreds of girls my age must be flaunting their goods at him every year, and I was the one he wanted to go after. I was sure that my lack of adoration for him was part of the pull where he was concerned, but, in many ways, it was a testament of my success in becoming the woman I dreamed of being.

Considering that I didn't want to go there, not even in theoretical discussions, I chose to keep this tidbit to myself. That meant sacrificing my dignity this once, but to me it felt like a fair trade.

"I might have developed a bit of a crush on said smart jerk."

"Oh, no, you didn't!" Tanya screeched, making me grimace and pull away from her. For just a moment I wondered if she bought my lie, but as such things go, it wasn't entirely made up, and her constant need to see something normal in me filled up the gaps that her intellect might have stumbled over, if she had just considered the entire situation again. Thankfully, my bullshit excuse seemed more reasonable than any other theory, like Cullen wanting to bend me over his desk.

"It's not like I can help it, or something," I hedged, this excuse also being true for the situation as it was in reality.

"Are you going to tap that ass? Because, you know, it happens all the time. Just because the school's policy is strictly against it doesn't mean anyone gives a shit. Only adds to the excitement!"

I shook my head, laughing at the offhand gesture she made.

"A stupid crush is one thing, but I don't think I want to act on any of those impulses. Plus, you know how those things go. Now I might be swooning over his brain, but after he whips out his small cock and either doesn't get it up, or comes within five minutes, all my dreams and fantasies will be crushed, and I will end up jaded for life."

"So that's why you're all over the hunky man meat from across the hall? You get the brains, plus all that untamed stamina of a hormonally raging twenty-something guy who has the recovery time of a jack-in-the-box? You, B, are one hell of a slut! I'm so proud of you."

I took that compliment – because coming from her, it was one, even if it was as inappropriate as it was misguided – with a smile, and allowed myself an inward sigh of relief. I felt bad about lying to her like that, but I was sure that years down the road it would prove to have been the best solution.

"I like your spunk, really," Tanya went on, her interest in my sordid private life already waning in favor of the real news of the day. "Trying to impress your prof is still a good thing. I'm sure that he'll reward you abundantly in your wank fantasies later. Me? I'd botch it on purpose so he could punish me for being a brat, but I know that's not your style."

I chose not to comment on that, following our tested and tried conversation patterns. With that out of the way, I launched myself into my last minute preparations, going over my notes and whispering my way through my presentation twice. I wasn't too fond of speaking in front of crowds, but I had come a long way from the shy girl in high school who had, more than once, thrown up before having to give a speech, or something similar.

Tanya soon left for her own lectures and study group, and an hour before Cullen's class started I was confident that I had everything as well prepared as I could manage in the time frame given to me. I only wasted about five minutes trying to find the perfect outfit. Being in college with a very limited allowance for clothes cut down my choices considerably, and seeing as I didn't want to say something like, 'look at my boobs, they should distract you from the fact that I don't have anything to say' in the first place, jeans, a tank top, and a thin cardigan seemed like the smart choice.

That left me with 45 minutes to spare as I arrived at the classroom. From a rather unfortunate episode last semester I knew that the computers and projectors didn't always work from the get-go in all rooms, so just to be sure I came armed with my presentation not only uploaded to my student's account, but also in hard copy on a flash drive, a CD, and if everything went wrong, print-outs that could be photocopied in ten minutes, as well.

The door to the room was locked, but I figured it wouldn't be a big deal to drop by Cullen's office and ask him to open it for me. I was sure that he must have a key himself, seeing as it was one of the more frequently used seminar rooms of his department. The thought of having to spend time with him, alone no less, creeped me out a little, but I told myself to suck it up and don my big girl panties. While my general admiration for his intellect had taken some heavy hits from his proposition, I still trusted that if I didn't show any interest, he'd keep his hands to himself; a man in his position didn't need to coerce a student, and whatever I thought of his morals, I was sure he wasn't that kind of guy. If I wanted to stay in his class and get the most out of it, I would have to learn to deal with the situation without being upset all the time, and, quite frankly, I didn't want to give him so much power over me in the first place.

His office was two levels up and at the end of a small hallway, overlooking one of the building's courtyards. I had had trouble finding it the first time, and as I walked there again, I wondered why he had chosen such a reclusive spot to set up camp. Most of the professors in other departments preferred to hold court rather than hide in the labyrinth of the less frequented rooms, both so students could reach them better, and to flaunt the splendor of their residence in front of lesser colleagues. If not for his obvious shortcomings, I would have been impressed with what Cullen's choice said about his ego, but as it was, I didn't know what to make of it.

As I walked around the bend in the hallway that led up to his office, I noticed that the door to his secretary's office was already firmly shut, its proprietress gone home for the day, it seemed. From the sign on the door, that didn't seem unusual, seeing as Cullen had his office hours set squarely in the morning, no exceptions, and for the first time I wondered why he had been so eager to make an exception for me two days ago. After all, I had dropped in during the afternoon, and he could have propositioned me any other time just as well. The vain part of me wanted to gloat, but I squashed that impulse, and instead did my best to steel myself for what was to come as I walked up to the lone door at the end of the hallway.

My hand was about to touch down on the handle when I noticed that the door wasn't fully closed. That made me frown for a moment, but I quickly discarded that oddity. Maybe he liked to keep it open for air circulation purposes, or something equally non-sinister. Still, I hesitated for a moment, holding my breath as I listened. A sound like someone bumping into a piece of furniture wafted through the gap, followed by a low, masculine curse, and I couldn't help but grin at the idea of Cullen stubbing his toe. Even confident men get thwarted by desk legs sometimes. And now I knew that he was in.

With something almost bordering on glee I pulled the door open then, ready to face whatever was lurking inside the room – and drew up to a very abrupt halt. The image that burned itself instantly into my retinas shouldn't even have surprised me that much – but it did.

The fact that my esteemed professor had someone bent over his desk, 35 minutes before the lecture that he, very conveniently, wouldn't even have to give himself wasn't really that astonishing. While it had been fun to believe for two days that he saw me as someone special, I had known that I couldn't have been the first, or last, of his students that he had tried to seduce, and not all of them would have refused.

No, walking in on him banging one of the fawnettes would have fit perfectly into the neat little world I had created inside my head, where my stance and denial got further underlined, and I could have walked away from this with my head held high, and just the lightest blush on my cheeks.

But the fact that it was Edward who he had pushed, front down, into his desk, and who seemed very happy to be there getting it in the ass, about fucking killed me.

It wasn't the sentimental little girl inside of me that screamed, who still believed in sappy romance and wanted to be swept off her feet by the perfect Prince Charming. She'd long since grown into a confident woman who knew that she had to cut out the perfect little place for herself in this world, and neither fate nor any guy with a cock would do that for her. No, it was a kind of insecurity deep inside of me that I hadn't known existed.

In general, I had no problems whatsoever with homosexuals of any gender. Walking in on two guys having sex wasn't what upset me. But, walking in on two guys getting it on who had both, very recently, wanted to fuck me – and had also shown great interest in me beyond my primary sexual organs – threw me for a loop. It made me feel used, like a plan B of a solution that hadn't originally included me, but somehow they'd managed to completely hide that from me.

In short, it was my pride and vanity that was hurt, and I was utterly incapable of dealing with that right now, while Cullen didn't even make an attempt to justify, or even stop, what I had just walked in on.

Judging from the self-satisfied grin he was sporting, he didn't give a fuck about me knowing of his escapades, and he didn't really seem surprised to see me. Considering the flush on Edward's face, it was hard to gauge his reaction, and he seemed a little too far gone to really get what was going on in the first place except for the hard cock continuing to thrust into his ass, but he certainly didn't protest, or do anything to stop what was going on.

I did what any self-respecting, mortally hurt, and shocked woman would have done – I stepped back out of the room, closed the door with emphasis, and walked back down to the lecture hall in a veritable daze. Down there, I got myself a cold Coke from a vending machine, then sat down on the bottom stair and just waited for something else to happen. The end of the world, or at least the collapse of the building over my head, would have been very appreciated.

At least my stage fright because of the presentation had all but dissipated.

It took a lot for me not to run when Cullen came down the stairs ten minutes before the start of the class, looking as composed and well put-together as ever. His gaze caught mine and held it, and while I tried not to look away, I had to when he raised his brows. It felt like defeat, but at the same time got me to stand up and walk over to where he had stopped next to the door, and I did my best to appear as cool and collected as possible.

"Ms. Swan."

"Professor Cullen," I greeted back, my voice not entirely stable, but getting stronger. He seemed to be waiting for more, but when I remained silent he unlocked the classroom and proceeded to turn on the computer.

My anxiety returned with a rush as Edward slinked into the room a minute after the official start of class, but I did my best to ignore him also. I still noticed that he was wearing a different shirt, and his hair was wet from the impromptu shower I figured he had taken.

It took a lot of strength to shut down the voice in the back of my mind, and instead concentrate on the task before me. I had always been good working under pressure, and after almost faltering twice during my first sentence, I slowly picked up speed and confidence again.

It very likely wasn't the best presentation I had given, but I thought I did a good job, and the discussion group afterward proved to be surprisingly animated. Yet, the moment the class was over, I had my things all gathered up, and I was ready to run.

Before I could make it to the door, Cullen stepped into my way, his slight smile seeming like pure mockery to me.

"Will you be joining us at the coffee shop tonight?"

I just shook my head, unable to even utter a verbal answer, and then I fled.

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed the update!<strong>

**Because of my insane Tue schedule, I've switched updates to Wednesday now.**

**You can find me on facebook and twitter, or join me as a writing buddy for NaNoWriMo!**


	7. Chapter 7

**My heartfelt thanks go to my wonderful beta**** V, ****and ****chrissy1201 ****and ****prassacut for ****being the best friends any writer could ask for!**

**I'm sorry it took me almost two months to update, but life has been complicated and difficult for me, and all that even without the stress of the looming exams come February. I'm trying hard to update at least once a month, preferably every two weeks from now on. Thank you for hanging in with me! Your support really means the world to me!**

**Those of you who have been reading my stories before TEMC know that I'm a very sex-positive person; I'm trying hard to send a message of tolerance with my writing. Please think twice before you make prejudiced comments about anyone based on their sexual preferences. You might insult more people than you****'ve**** intended to.**

**Last but not least, AGoT got a banner by the wonderful and very talented catonspeed! You can find it on my facebook page, or the blog!**

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><p>After spending the last two entire days with almost no sleep, I should have been ready to crawl into my bed and drop into a coma before my head even hit the pillow, but my bed – where I had sex with Edward twice in the last week – was about the last place I wanted to be right now. I briefly considered calling Tanya to have her burn my bedding, but then I considered that I would need to find replacements fast, because being on a bare mattress while sleeping away the hangover I wanted to soon conjure up didn't sound very appealing. But getting drunk was the best idea I had in years. Way better than taking that stupid class or hooking up with a guy who took 'no strings attached' and 'non-exclusive' to a whole new level.<p>

When I checked the liquidity of my funds, which was somewhere between meager and non-existent, I briefly considered just buying a bottle of something that would kill my higher brain functions fast, and getting drunk in the park, but the last thing I needed right now was to wake up with something worse than the hangover I yearned for, so I quickly discarded that idea. Instead, I walked the few blocks off-campus to one of the bars Tanya had scouted out months ago, and found myself a cozy seat at the end of the bar.

The bartender was a woman in her forties, and like so many of her profession, she seemed oddly aware of my state of emotional turmoil as she got the vodka bottle to pour my shot.

"Hard week, sweetie?"

Considering I was easily young enough to be her daughter, and she didn't card me although I knew she could have, I felt like I could forgive her the appellation, and gratefully gulped down the first glass she pushed in my direction.

"You could say that."

"Wanna talk about it?"

That made me blink. She couldn't get paid enough to do this job and seriously want to listen to strangers whine all evening long.

"Do you want to know?"

She shrugged, then offered me a small smile.

"If it keeps you drinking, sure, why not?"

Now that was a concept I could grasp.

"Today I walked in on the guy I had sex with twice last week getting fucked by the guy I refused to have sex with two days ago. Quite frankly, I feel like a fool."

She snorted, but it was a good-natured sound.

"Here, this one's on me. Forget them. Better now than ten minutes into your marriage, right?"

I hated it when people disrupted my wallowing by making sense, but as it came with free booze, I didn't protest, and instead nodded gratefully at her.

"True. But today nothing worse exists in the world. Oh, the joys of being young!"

That made her laugh, and once I had downed the second shot she gave me another refill, but put the bottle away afterward.

"No guy is worth drinking yourself out of this week's food budget, girl. Unless you find someone willing to buy you the next drink, you'll have to make do with that one."

I blinked, momentarily angry at her reasoning.

"Who says all college kids have to be poor as church mice?"

"The privileged ones don't order the cheap stuff," she confided with a wink, then left me to brood on my own. I still didn't know what to make of her words when the guy next to me saw that as an opportunity to make a pass at me, but as I wasn't that desperate to get drunk, I shot him down with a single scathing glare. At least that still worked, even though my womanly wiles seemed to be tuned for 'sleaze-bag' of late.

That conviction only got underlined when he moved once he got the message, only to make room for a guy I didn't want to see anymore, yet knew somewhat better. For a second I let myself hope that it might be coincidence, but why else, except to track me down, should Edward have wandered into this very establishment?

I tried to ignore him, but that was almost impossible when he leaned toward me, almost invading my personal space.

"Go away."

He sighed, and I felt my ire rise when it sounded less depressed and more exasperated than I thought appropriate.

"Bella, please, just listen to me, okay?"

When staring straight ahead didn't work to make him go away, I turned to him, but my glare seemed to have lost its strength between the other guy and him.

"Why should I? There's nothing to explain." The anger and feeling of rejection rising in me was turning my voice brittle, but I swallowed both down so I could add, "You also don't owe me an explanation."

"I know, but I want to explain nevertheless."

He didn't even seem to be affected by the cold shoulder I was trying to show him, and that made my anger boil hotter again. Narrowing my eyes, I fixed him with what I hoped was a stronger glare now.

"Maybe I don't want to hear your bullshit explanation. Have you considered that? Probably not, insensitive asshole that you are!"

"Insensitive?" he bristled, his green eyes lighting up with anger of his own now. "Why am I insensitive? You and I had sex – that's it. Your own words, if I may remind you. I owe you nothing – no loyalty or anything. I can screw who I want, when I want, and where I want."

"Screw you!"

Apparently, lack of sleep and not enough booze to get me drunk didn't really further my eloquence. We stared at each other, both fuming, and a tiny part of me even cheered that it would be awesome if now he just kissed me with that same passion, and we ended up fucking in the dark alley behind the pub, but thankfully it was very easy to ignore that voice.

Edward actually had the gall to laugh, which only added to my frustration.

"That's the worst you can come up with? I'm starting to feel like you're not even trying."

"And why should I? You're just some stupid loser who thinks he's something special because his pervert of a professor fucked him on his desk. Good riddance, if you ask me."

He didn't even take me seriously, and just kept on grinning.

"Yeah, the fact that you didn't even look at me once during the entire time of class, and the way you ran off afterward, clearly speak of your indifference. And what do you even know about my motives? Your high horse isn't really that different than mine. You were just too chickenshit to do what gave me no qualms."

It was obvious that I wouldn't win this argument, and right then I wasn't really up to fighting a losing battle. Slapping down some money on the bar, I slid off my stool, then started to walk out on Edward. The effect of that was seriously ruined when he didn't hesitate to follow me.

"Leave me alone!"

"Only after you've heard what I have to say," he quipped as he caught up to me outside, his longer legs easily falling in stride next to me.

"Why should I even listen? As far as I'm concerned, I'm through with you."

That made him stop, and I was starting to hope that he would just let me walk off, but things didn't get any better when he called after me instead.

"Are you really such an insecure little girl? If that's the case, I'm sorry I ever stuck my dick in you!"

I hated myself for being unable to let that go, just as much as I hated the triumphant grin that appeared on his face when I also halted and turned to face him.

"I'm not insecure, and don't you dare call me a little girl when you're the one acting immature!"

"Me?" He extended his arms to the sides as he slowly started closing the distance between us. "What is immature about my behavior? I didn't run off, three times, just to avoid confrontation. I don't blush until my face resembles a tomato just because I feel rejected. I don't take two adults having sex as rejection, when it clearly has nothing to do with me."

I'm normally not a fan of violence, but his words made me want to hit him so badly that my entire body seemed to vibrate from the tension. I could tell that he knew that, and I probably would have followed that instinct, if he hadn't switched tactics then. Instead of continuing to gloat, Edward forced his grin to disappear, and he looked sad instead.

"Because, really, it has nothing to do with you. Or not in the way of excluding you. I didn't cheat on you, nor did I use you to make sure once and for all that I'm gay – and I think you know that. What happens between Carlisle and me doesn't influence what is going on between you and me."

"Now you're on a first name basis, huh?"

"It would be weird to have sex with someone and not call them by their given name."

"Whatever. And nothing you've said so far makes any difference to me."

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, then crossed his arms over his chest.

"Straight facts then, okay?"

"And 'straight' being the important word about that, eh?"

I think he was a step away from rolling his eyes at me, but didn't, and instead took another deep breath.

"Carlisle approached me with the same offer he approached you with. Unlike you, I didn't throw an indignant hissy fit, but saw the opportunity for what it is – an opportunity for something that I will never consider once I'm out of college and start building a career and family. Right now, I don't have any obligations to anyone; I'm free to do what I want. What's so bad about that?"

"What's bad is the fact that you're banging your teacher! You could end up ruining your entire life over your inability to keep your dick where it belongs! Or your ass cheeks firmly pressed together. Or whatever! How can you be so reckless and stupid?"

Although he clearly fought it, a smile reappeared on his face during my ramble, but he did his best to remain serious.

"Why should it all get out? It's not like anyone has to know."

"How can it not get out when random people like me walk in on you?"

Surprise flitted over his face at that.

"You do realize that he set you up, right? There was nothing random about you walking in on us."

"You were part of that? Asshole!"

"No, I wasn't," he tried to deflect my anger. "But in hindsight it's obvious. You're exactly the kind who shows up, well prepared, and wants to set things up ahead of time. You had to come by his office just then. I didn't think of it, but I probably should have. Why else would he have called me there today?"

"And you support that 'plan'?" I added the air quotes with my fingers. Edward just shrugged.

"Actions speak louder than words sometimes, right?"

The longer this went on, the worse I started to feel, and I really didn't need to be told just how stupid and ignorant I had been during the last weeks, so I started walking again. Edward, of course, followed me.

"Don't you even want to know what this is about?" he asked when it became apparent that I was determined to keep my trap shut for now. I shook my head, but that didn't deter him. "It wasn't coincidence that he singled you out, you know? Besides the fact that you're really one of a kind, he did it at my suggestion."

"And just how should that make me feel better?" I bristled. The fact that part of me wanted to, just increased my self-loathing.

"Who said it's supposed to? After I agreed to be part of his experiment he asked me who I thought would be best suited to join us, and you were the first, and only, one I thought of."

"Oh? And what makes me so special?" I huffed, trying to speed up a little, but he had no trouble catching up.

"That you're an exceptionally intelligent woman with a wicked sense of humor, who is not afraid to question norms and discuss things in detail. Most girls your age are just that, girls, but you're much more mature than them. Except for when you're trying to run away from things that make you uncomfortable because of your ignorance, that is."

"Continuing to insult me will not make me change my mind, just so you know."

"But it will make you think, and hopefully see reason eventually."

I hated that he was right, but at that moment I felt completely justified to keep acting like a five-year-old girl, even though I hated it.

"Doesn't look like there's anything there to consider, much less anything reasonable."

He stopped again, and this time he didn't follow when I kept walking. Leaving him standing there in the middle of the sidewalk should have felt liberating, but it didn't. I just felt lonely, pathetic, and terribly naïve.

Once I reached the campus, I avoided the shortest way to my dorm as it would have led by the coffee shop. Tanya was still out and about, although the candle she had stuck in the last remaining muffin made me smile slightly. Not feeling like celebrating a victory that wasn't one, I put the muffin in the fridge, then changed into an old t-shirt and shorts and crawled into my bed.

I fell asleep surprisingly fast, physical exhaustion winning over mental turmoil. By the time my alarm shrilled, it was morning again, and while I didn't really feel rested, my world was just a little less bleak. As usual, Tanya made no move to indicate whether she was awake or not, so I tiptoed to the door, on my way to grab an early morning shower before most of the dorm got the same idea.

I almost slipped on the folded piece of paper that lay on the floor, where it had been slid underneath the door. My brain was still too confused from sleep to wonder much about its origin, so I unfolded it, expecting a party invitation flyer or something like that. Instead, it was a handwritten note. I didn't recognize the scrawl, and it wasn't signed, but the message stood well enough for itself.

_If you change your mind, talk to C. You're missing out big if you don't._

Gnashing my teeth, I took the note with me to the showers, where I tore it up and threw it into the trash. Part of me hated Edward for having to be so insistent. The far greater part hated myself for even considering following his advice.

* * *

><p><strong>Happy New Year everyone!<strong>


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